


Tear Ducts and Rust

by jatty



Series: Dogs [2]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Human Trafficking, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 17:53:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 39
Words: 177,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jatty/pseuds/jatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after Frank and Gerard reunite, Gerard is haunted by night terrors that he doesn’t want to acknowledge. Even though the dreams begin to interfere with his life, Gerard isn’t ready to face his past or the fact that his terrors are more real than he’s willing to think. Frank has all the answers he needs, but an old promise keeps him silent even though his heart screams that it’s time to reveal the truth about who they both really are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to _It All Goes Back to the Dogs_

Frank heard half of the mumble in his sleep. Then he heard it grow louder and louder until it filled the entire room as he jolted awake.

“Nnn…Nnn!—Nnnhn!”

“Gerard,” Frank said quickly, hesitating before rubbing his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Sweetheart?” As soon as Frank’s hand brushed against Gerard’s skin, the other man jerked away from him, his moan morphing into words.

“No!— _No!_ ” His words burst into sobs and Frank sat up quickly, throwing on the bedside lamp and staring in worry and confusion at his lover’s trembling, convulsing form. He never knew what to do for Gerard on nights like this. 

“Sweetheart,” Frank whispered, reaching out slowly and stroking Gerard’s bright red hair. The two dogs sleeping at the foot of their bed stirred, but did little more than lift their heads in acknowledgement of the chaos.

“Nnn!” Gerard screeched out again, sobbing until the convulsions of his chest woke him with a start. “Nnn!—No! No...” Gerard sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open as he gasped for air.

“Gerard?” Frank said quietly. 

Gerard just sat there panting. He was still except for his breaths until he lifted his hand to wipe a line of drool off his face, but as soon as he lowered the hand he jumped onto his feet.

He was going to throw up.

As Gerard stumbled into the bathroom, Frank slid the sheets off of his legs and got to his feet slowly, trying to keep the dogs calm so they wouldn’t chase him into the bathroom. By the time he reached the bathroom, Gerard had already emptied his stomach and was leaning on the toilet bowl panting and crying. He had his arms folded in front of him on the rim of the bowl, and his head rested on his forearms which grew damp from his tears.

“Sweetheart?” Frank said softly, kneeling down at his boyfriend’s side and rubbing his back slowly. Gerard shook his head and sobbed. 

One of their dogs, the white one named Bear, jumped off of the bed and rushed to the bathroom to see what was going on. His concern went unrecognized, but he continued to sniff at Frank’s leg before laying down on the bathmat and watching his two masters silently.

“It’s these fuckin’ nightmares,” Gerard cried hopelessly. “They’re so _real,_ Frank. They’re so _real,_ it scares me…” Frank pulled Gerard slowly away from the bowl and got Gerard to rest his head on his chest instead, wrapping his lover up in his arms and holding him tightly. 

“They’re just dreams,” Frank whispered; sweet, noxious lies. “It’s okay. It’s just a dream.” Gerard shook his head and continued to sob. Frank never saw him so weak except for nights like this. 

“Oh, God, Frank…What’s happening?” Gerard wept, clutching onto Frank’s nightshirt and using it to dry his tears. “What’s happening to me?”

“Nothing,” Frank whispered, holding Gerard tighter and moving one hand stroke his hair. “You’re okay. It’ll be okay.”

“No,” Gerard sobbed. 

“ _Yes,_ ” Frank spoke firmly. “Come on. Let’s get a drink and try to sleep again, okay? I’ll keep you safe.” Gerard let out a doubtful sob and Frank started to pull him to his feet. “I’ll keep you _safe._ ”

He filled the glass cup on the side of the bathroom sink with cold water and handed it to Gerard to drink. The glass had been placed there over a year and a half ago when they had first moved in to the townhouse. When the nightmares had started to become so intense that they left Gerard physically ill… It had been washed and replaced almost four times a week. 

Tonight was the fourth consecutive night. 

“Go back to bed,” Frank said softly. Gerard kept his head lowered as he obeyed, and Frank felt a pang of remorse as he flushed the toilet, turned out the bathroom light, and followed his lover back to their shared bed…their bed built on lies built upon more lies.

Bear hurried after them and needed Frank’s help to get back onto the mattress. Frank helped him just so he wouldn’t have to hear the constant whines. Gerard’s cries were enough.

“I was on a table this time,” Gerard said tearfully. He lay with his arm bent beneath his head and his back to Frank. Bear sniffed at him, his energy interesting their second dog who stood up and began to paw at his master as well. Gerard ignored both of them.

Frank gave Gerard his space and only reached out to slowly trace designs on Gerard’s shoulder blades with the tip of his finger, never mind the dogs that licked at his hand as he did. He didn’t care much for dogs these days. He worried about Gerard.

“There was some man standing over me…He had a knife.” Gerard started to sob and Frank inched closer. “He started to cut my tongue and I couldn’t move—I couldn’t move…”

“What do you think it means?” Frank asked. Gerard’s latest therapist said his dreams had hidden meanings… Frank was the only one who knew the truth.

“I don’t know,” Gerard whispered, sounding horrified. “That I’ve…lost my voice? That I’ve given up my voice because I stopped singing?—But I _can’t_ sing anymore, Frank. I start getting sick when I try because these dreams come back…”

“Come back?” Frank asked suddenly. That was a detail he hadn’t known before.

“Yeah…” 

For a moment, Frank was speechless, but eventually he managed to stammer something out.

“Wh-what…what do you—”

“What if they’re not dreams?” Gerard gasped, sniffing and choking on another sob. “Frank, I think they’re memories,” he cried, his voice going a pitch higher and breaking. “I can’t block them out—they’re _so vivid._ ”

Frank made Gerard roll over and pulled him close to his chest. The dogs settled back down at the foot of the bed and stayed quiet.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he said, even though the threat was something he couldn’t face.

“I’m scared,” Gerard sobbed, his whole body beginning to convulse again. 

Frank shushed him and held him tight. 

“I’m here,” he whispered. “I love you. I’m here…”

And, just like the night before, Gerard cried himself back to sleep.

( ) ( ) ( )

“Frank? Did you use this glass last night?” Gerard asked while brushing his teeth. He was holding the glass cup in his hand and examining it in the light. “It’s got prints on it.”

“Yeah,” Frank lied. “I had a really dry throat.”

“Oh…” Gerard spit out a mouthful of toothpaste and rinsed his toothbrush in the sink. “I’m tired,” he said. “Why am I always so tired?”

“I don’t know,” Frank said. “Maybe I woke you up when I got a drink.”

“No,” Gerard said absentmindedly. “I slept through the night…I don’t know. But I never dream anymore. I used to have really cool dreams about being a superhero and flying and shit, now I don’t dream at all.”

“You mean now that we moved _here,_ ” Frank muttered. “If you wanted to stay at your apartment, we could have. We didn’t have to move.” Frank stared at Gerard sadly, feeling guilty for displacing him since the nightmares started immediately after they’d moved in. 

Like his past, Gerard repressed his nightmares in his sleep. Frank was slowly starting to resent him for it. He could never hate Gerard, but he wished that he would just be strong enough to face his past and move on. It’d been almost four years since they’d met that night in the auction house. He knew the wounds Gerard had would never, _ever_ heal completely, but some of the pain had to have left with the time, right? Some things had to have been forgotten by now…

“I didn’t want to stay in the apartment…the neighbors were noisy and everything. I just—I don’t dream here, that’s all…” Gerard looked ashamed and Frank felt terrible. They spent more time miserable than happy these days, and Frank felt like the blame was on him. Gerard had made him promise—long ago—to stay away from him, but he couldn’t keep that promise. He loved Gerard so much…but apparently not enough to leave him and let him live his life happily without a sublime reminder of his wicked past. “Do I do things differently since we moved? Like…sleep strange or anything?”

“No,” Frank mumbled. “You sleep soundly. You hardly even roll over—are you coming to practice today?” Gerard always said no. 

_Always._

“Maybe,” Gerard whispered, causing Frank to raise his eyebrows in surprise. “I-I don’t know…I might try to sing today. My throat doesn’t hurt and I feel…” He sighed heavily and shook his tangled hair away from his eyes. “I feel okay today.”

“Are you sure?” Frank asked, remembering the conversation they’d had last night—the one Gerard repressed. Gerard had said he stopped singing because the nightmares returned to him when he sang… 

It was like there was one Gerard who knew nothing, and one Gerard who knew everything.

“Yeah, Frank,” Gerard muttered. “I wanna see Mikey. It’s been a little while and I know he misses me.”

“Okay. I’ll call the guys and tell them you’ll be there.”

“Kay,” Gerard said, offering Frank a quick smile. Frank examined his lips for a brief second and then went for them, kissing his boyfriend softly. Gerard chuckled and kissed back with a little more force before hastily pulling away. “Come on, you’ll be late for work. Get your shower. You’ve still gotta take the dogs on their walk…”

“Yes, boss,” Frank mumbled, sticking out his tongue as Gerard left the bathroom. 

It really was like there were two Gerards… One who was innocent and protected, and one who knew all of the world’s evils. When he realized it, little things clicked together. Gerard’s distance on some nights, his conflicting messages from his therapist…

His therapist…did she know this was going on?

Did _Gerard,_ in some conscious or unconscious plane, know what was happening to him?...know what he’d chosen to have happen to himself?

God, Frank prayed he wasn’t developing some kind of split personality. It started off small—forgetting his past and repressing the reminders…it started off with nightmares and sudden flashbacks. It ended with Gerard creating another self to cope with the unimaginable pain he was living in.

Frank felt awful. As he showered, he felt more and more guilty. He should have left Gerard alone…he shouldn’t have talked to him in that grocery store, shouldn’t have tried to keep him close when he came to his apartment…shouldn’t have moved in with him. 

He should’ve kept his promise. He should’ve stayed away…

But then again, all he’d ever promised was, if they ever met again, to pretend they’d never met. It wasn’t his fault that Gerard had fallen in love with him twice…

But then again, that was bullshit. He was selfish and he was going to ruin Gerard’s life. He’d known that all along and yet he’d still allowed this to happen.

( ) ( ) ( )

“I can’t,” Gerard said rapidly, stepping backwards and covering his face with his hands. “I can’t—I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Frank said, rubbing Gerard’s shoulder as he backed away from the microphone, hands still covering his eyes. He was groaning softly as if in pain—a pain he would attribute to a sore throat—and Frank now knew where that agony was really coming from.

Bob, a friend of Ray’s and their band’s reluctant, appointed drummer, sighed in frustration and cast his drum sticks aside. 

“Are we ever going to actually finish practice one day, or are we always gonna stop halfway through?” Bob snapped. 

“I’m sorry,” Gerard mumbled, still covering his face as he sank down onto the floor of Ray’s garage. 

“Go to the doctor if your throat hurts that fuckin’ bad—something’s _wrong_ with you.”

“Drop it,” Mikey said harshly, setting down his bass and going to Gerard’s side. 

“I’m goin’ home,” Bob muttered, standing up and passing Gerard a crude glance before packing up his drum sticks and pulling on his coat. 

“The four of us can still practice, Bob,” Ray said quickly, trying to salvage the night. 

“What good will it do!?” Bob boomed. Gerard whimpered, but Frank was sure he was the only one who heard it. “What the fuck good does it do to have all band and no vocals? This isn’t going _anywhere!_ I told you I would give this a try, but unless _he_ toughens up, or _we_ get a new singer, there’s no point for me even being here!”

While Ray tried to coax Bob into staying, Frank and Mikey worked on keeping Gerard calm. Bob knew nothing of Gerard’s past, and although Frank wanted to scream at him and tell him that Gerard’s life had been so fucking bad that he couldn’t even imagine it, that was Gerard’s business and Frank knew better than to bring it up. 

“It’s okay, Gee,” Mikey said quietly. “Don’t push yourself so hard.”

“I’m _not_ pushing myself,” Gerard muttered. “That’s the problem… I’m not doing _anything._ I’m not doing _anything_ with my life. I can’t even fucking sing without scaring myself—and I don’t know why! Every fucking thing on this earth freaks me the fuck out and I can’t take it anymore—like, what the fucking hell? Am I five? Am I a baby who can’t face fuckin’—fuckin’ _anything?_ ”

“Gerard, what are you talking about?” Mikey asked, keeping up this great, apathetic façade. He’d behaved coldly towards Gerard—for the most part—since his memories had faded away. To some he would appear completely insensitive, but Frank—and Gerard on some occasions—could see the real concern he buried underneath his frigidness.

“I’m…I’m _terrified,_ ” Gerard said, dropping his hands from his face. He wasn’t crying, but he looked like he might at any second. 

What did he remember, Frank wondered. What was Gerard hiding from them?

“Of what?” Mikey asked, his voice harsh.

Gerard stared at his brother hopelessly and then just shook his head. 

“Everything,” he whispered.

“It’s fuckin’ stage fright,” Bob growled. “He won’t sing because he doesn’t want to face the reality of if we actually want this band to go anywhere, we’re gonna have to play fucking live, and he’s a fucking coward.”

“I’m not a coward!” Gerard screamed, making Mikey jump and turning Frank’s stomach into a ball of ice. It wasn’t that is voice became intense or became angry, it was the volume and the sheer, unmistakable sound of distress in his voice that even left Bob momentarily speechless. Then, all of a sudden, his ferocity fell away into misery again and Gerard got quickly to his feet. “I have to go,” he mumbled. “I need to leave—I’m going to be sick.”

When he started to walk, his limbs began shaking—his entire form vibrating with agony and terror. He made it two steps before he threw up and started to cry.

“Stage fright, man,” Bob whispered to Ray. “He’s not cut out for it.”

“Drop it,” Ray said back, looking to Frank with inquisitive eyes. Frank didn’t say a word. He wouldn’t tell them about the dreams or the fact that Gerard remembered them, somehow, whenever he began to sing. There were too many uncertain things in that statement—what did Gerard dream? What did he remember? Why did the memories come back when he sang? Why didn’t Gerard say anything about them?

If Frank couldn’t tell Gerard what was wrong with him, there was no way he could explain it to Bob or Ray, or even Mikey for that matter.

“I’ll clean this up,” Mikey said, taking on the air of standoffish parent.

“Mikey, you don’t have to—” Gerard began to say softly, fighting back his tears and only allowing two or three to fall. He didn’t cry as much as he used to, and even around Frank he barely sobbed…expect at night when he wasn’t himself.

“Gerard, just go home and rest,” Mikey said. “I’ll take care of this.” Gerard looked at him sadly and then looked to Frank.

“I’ll just pack up my guitar and I’ll be right there,” Frank said quickly. “Just wait in the car—you need to sit down.” Gerard just stared at him for a moment, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and blinking his red-rimmed eyes. 

He was saying something, or trying to, but Frank couldn’t figure out the signals. He was sorry that he couldn’t, because he knew he’d missed something important when Gerard dropped his gaze and bowed his head in grief.

( ) ( ) ( )

“Gerard, I want to talk to you,” Frank said as soon as the door to their townhouse was shut. Bear and their second dog, a pug-mix named Pig, jumped at their legs and barked at them hysterically, but they were ignored. They got little attention these days. Frank didn’t have time for them—not now that Gerard had begun acting so strange…

“About my stage fright?” Gerard asked in a quiet whisper.

“About your nightmares,” Frank said firmly. Gerard’s eyes searched the floor and Frank let him stall. He wouldn’t force Gerard to answer quickly; he wouldn’t shock him into spitting out words that wove the rope of his own personal noose.

“I don’t have…” Gerard couldn’t even get the rest of the sentence out because his voice shook so badly. He closed his eyes against a rush of tears and shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “I don’t have nightmares—I don’t _dream_ anymore, I told you that this morning!” The intensity of his voice scared the dogs which scurried into the kitchen to hide by their food bowls, tails tucked and ears down.

“Gerard—”

“No!” Gerard cried. “You’re not _listening_ to me! I don’t have dreams! I don’t _have_ dreams anymore! I don’t,” Gerard sobbed and then immediately forced himself to dawn a mask of composure. “I need to take a nap,” he moaned. “I’m so tired—I’m just tired, that’s all.”

Frank watched helplessly, trying to get his lips to form words but only able to get his mouth to open and close silently as Gerard retreated into their bedroom and collapsed into a ball on the bed. He buried himself in the covers and Frank watched him from the doorway silently. 

It used to be that Gerard would hide himself in the sheets when something in the outside world frightened him…now he hid from what was inside his own mind. The thing was, he couldn’t hide from what was inside of him. It was part of him, and Frank felt that that was probably what was frightening his lover the most…

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard stared at his reflection in the mirror and hated what he saw. Fake red hair. Fake long lashes. Fake clear skin.

Every bit of him was fake. Every bit of him was a lie…

But the truth was something that he could not see. It was all there. Everything was there in the back of his mind, and he could feel it—but he just couldn’t see it. His dreams meant something… The awful nightmares meant something, but he didn’t know what.

While Frank watched television in their new, cozy living room, Gerard laid in bed, staring at their bedroom wall and clutching their quilt to his chest while Bear slept behind the bend in his knees. 

He tried so hard to hide the nightmares—to pretend like he didn’t remember, because forgetting seemed like the right thing to do—but now they’d become so forceful and so terrifying that he wanted Frank’s help so desperately that he let his darker world show. He let Frank know what was happening, but he was still too afraid to let him see for real what was going on. 

In the morning, when the images weren’t so haunting, Gerard would try to hide behind a mask of normality. He would pretend that the dreams weren’t real and that the night hadn’t happened…it confused Frank—it _hurt_ Frank, but Gerard didn’t know what else to do.

Forgetting seemed appropriate. Forgetting seemed _right._

But then he’d let it slip that singing brought back the nightmares…the memories.

Gerard was so sure his night terrors were memories he’d forgotten…maybe made worse by his fears, and maybe not tampered with at all. Eight years of his life were missing from his conscious mind, and he fought a losing battle to keep it that way. He wanted to know, he didn’t want to know.

The lyrics to his songs held so many clues, and he knew that when he started singing. Sometimes the lines would cut him like knives when he realized that what he was saying were metaphors for things he’d seen in his worst dreams. 

Someone, somewhere, at some point in time had hurt him badly. Gerard knew the details…he knew where, he knew how…but he didn’t know when, and he didn’t know why. He also didn’t know how he had escaped. Frank was there. Frank _admitted_ to being there at some point, but Gerard felt like he knew more than he let on.

No normal person would put up with the things that Frank did. Gerard could yell and throw things and cry and Frank would just pick of the pieces and try to calm him down. Even Mikey didn’t possess that kind of dedication…

It wasn’t normal.

And neither was the sense of déjà vu that hovered over his head every day. He saw Frank and he remembered things…he remembered _emotions._ It wasn’t memories of long walks or endless nights—it was feelings of trust and dedication and complete and utter _love._

He’d felt all of those things in one overwhelming moment the first time he’d seen Frank at the store those years ago. At that moment, he’d felt so compelled to speak to Frank that nothing else in the world existed for him. He felt an attachment so strong that he could barely breathe.

He saw Frank and he felt salvation.

It wasn’t normal.

It just wasn’t normal…

“Gerard?” Frank knocked on the bedroom door and Gerard shut his eyes and pretended to be asleep. Frank slowly pushed the door open and slipped into the room. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry I pushed you,” he whispered, sitting down at the foot of the bed. Gerard didn’t move, and fought to the keep his breaths even. “I’m so sorry, Sweetheart. I love you—I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Still, Gerard didn’t give in. He laid still and didn’t even let a limb twitch.

“Baby, please…” Frank ran his hand up Gerard’s leg, and Gerard made a point to twitch and groan in a sleepy way. “Are you sleeping?” Frank whispered, sounding like he believed the ruse. “Gerard?” Frank kept pushing it, but Gerard’s acting had him fooled. 

Frank pitched a heavy sigh and sat at the foot of the bed silently for almost a straight hour. 

“Oh, Gerard,” Frank sighed, hardly audible. Gerard caught the words as he faded in and out of consciousness. “If you ever ask me, Baby, I’ll tell you.” Gerard’s body tensed at the words, but Frank didn’t seem to notice. “I’ll tell you everything, Sweetheart,” Frank breathed. “I just don’t want to hurt you…I love you so much, Gerard.”

Tears welled in Gerard’s eyes and he fought to keep them closed as Frank stood up from the bed and crept back towards the door. As soon as the door was shut Gerard let out a sob and covered his mouth quickly with his hand.

Frank knew.

Whatever it was that he was trying to repress and remember all at once, Frank knew. 

Frank was… _there?_ Had Frank been there? 

Gerard clutched his pillow and started to cry. Every night he lie in bed wondering who the hell he was and what the hell was happening to him, and right beside him, pretending to be confused and clueless, was the man who held all the answers.

It wasn’t just his image that was a lie. It was his entire life…


	2. Chapter 2

Gerard was forced to look down at his body in disgust. Someone had a hand fisted in his hair and was pushing his head down until his chin touched his chest, making his neck and shoulders burn with pain. The man was screaming at him, telling him to look at his disgusting body.

Look at the fat, the excess skin, the unkempt hairs across his lower abdomen and even those down his poorly-toned legs.

Made to look lower in self-loathing at his limp, pathetic cock… He hated everything he saw and it made him cry helplessly. He was a prisoner in his own, ugly body.

“But you’ve got such a pretty face, you slut,” the man murmured in his ear. Gerard felt his head pulled back and looked at his reflection in the body-length mirror in front of him. It was hard to keep his eyes from scanning his obese, protruding stomach and all of its stretch marks and lines—it was difficult to look himself in the eye. “Do you see that face, whore?” The man asked, pressing his cheek against Gerard as his other hand grabbed Gerard under the chin to keep his eye locked on those of his reflection. “Such a pretty face—worth a lot of money. Worth a good chunk of money—so don’t fuck it up with your stupid crying.”

But the words just made him cry harder. All he was was a pretty face—and he didn’t even see himself having that… He saw hideousness in his skin, drug addiction in his greasy hair, and scum in his eyes. There was no beauty…there was nothing pretty or attractive.

“Come on, slut. Let’s get some coke…” Gerard found himself kneeling on the floor beside a glass coffee table, a line of powder in front of him and a tiny, rolled up piece of paper between his fingers. 

He knelt over the powder, snorted, and felt the sweet, enticing burn. His mind felt free, but he still felt low. He felt great and horrible all at once. As long as he had this—this drug, this _addiction_ \--it didn’t matter how gross he was; he could always feel okay in the end.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank woke up when Gerard sat up in bed. He didn’t get sick instantly upon awakening anymore, but he was still woken by his terrors. 

He didn’t talk about them anymore. He hardly talked at all… Gerard had simply gone quiet. 

“Are you okay?” Frank asked softly. Gerard hummed and laid back down. “Gerard?” Frank hated the silence. He had a pretty good idea of what his lover was dreaming, but he played dumb. He had to. Gerard couldn’t know the truth…it would tear him apart.

“Bad dream,” Gerard mumbled. 

“Don’t want to talk about it?” Frank asked.

“No.” Gerard rolled over so that his back was to Frank, and Frank sighed quietly.

“I miss you, Gerard,” Frank mumbled.

“Yeah,” Gerard murmured in response. “So do I…”

“Gerard?”

“Let me sleep,” Gerard growled. “I’m tired, Frank. Please, just leave me alone.”

“Okay,” Frank said, trying not to feel wounded. It hurt being pushed aside so casually. They didn’t feel like a couple anymore; they hardly felt like friends… “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Gerard mumbled, agitation in his voice. Frank sighed and turned his back to his lover and tried to return to sleep. It was hard, but he eventually managed…

( ) ( ) ( )

“I can’t…have sex with Frank anymore,” Gerard said to his therapist, Dr. Schuster. 

“Do you know why?” Dr. Schuster asked, looking up from her notepad and fixing him with a curious gaze. He really liked that about her—she had curious eyes and not analytical ones… It didn’t look like she was examining him, even if she was; it just looked like she was curious to know more and offer her advice. 

He really only saw his therapist because he wanted advice…

“My bad dreams,” Gerard admitted. He wished he could talk to Frank the way he talked to her, but when it came to Frank his mouth just clamped shut. 

“The ones where you’re being assaulted?” 

“Being raped,” Gerard said, closing his eyes tightly. “I think they’re memories—I’m so afraid that they’re memories.”

“What makes them feel real? Besides the emotions, Gerard.”

“Well,” Gerard said, inhaling deeply and facing the images in his head. “I had this one dream where…where the guy was holding me down and…and he was beating me over and over…” His hands began to shake as he tried to speak the words, and he stared at the floor instead of Dr. Schuster’s face. “And he was…was hitting me with this belt and I _know_ it tore open my side and…where I dreamt he hit me, I have a scar.”

Dr. Schuster looked bewildered, but quickly regained her composure as she jotted down notes. 

She had a hard time believing him when he’d told her that eight years of his memory were missing, but the more nightmares he told her, the more she began to trust him. He couldn’t fake the terror that overwhelmed him when he tried to tell her his fears. 

“And how did these all begin? The first time you told me about the dreams, you just mentioned that you were having vivid nightmares about abuse and you said that you felt they were caused by stress from the move…”

“I moved in with Frank, yeah…” Gerard mumbled, swallowing hard and remembering his first nightmare in their new townhouse. “I dreamt that I was tied down and someone was…someone was hurting me, but I couldn’t see anything, I just felt it all.”

“And they’re becoming more visual?”

“They’re becoming more _everything,_ ” Gerard cried out. “I see everything but their faces… I see rooms and furniture, but I can’t see their faces when they hurt me.”

“And the dreams have progressed from beatings to sexual assault?” Gerard closed his eyes and nodded. 

“I had this one a-about two weeks ago where…where I was looking at myself in the mirror and this guy was telling me how…how fucking ugly I was. Like, he was pointing things out and making me look at myself… In the dream I just stood there crying, looking at myself and hating _everything_ I saw.” The tears welled in his eyes and he didn’t bother blinking them back. Frank couldn’t see him cry anymore, but his therapist was different. He trusted her more… He didn’t have to be strong for her because she already knew he was weak. “He told me my face looked pretty and was w-worth m-money. I just kept crying and he gave me cocaine and I think that’s where it’s all started—I know I did drugs, but I never remembered why and I don’t _want_ to. I’m so fucking scared of what comes next.”

“Gerard, there may be a layer of reality to your dreams, but they aren’t necessarily real memories. I feel that you really do want to know what’s in your past, but you have a lot of concern about what’s there. Your dreams may be manifestations of your worst fears—”

“They’re _real!_ ” Gerard pleaded. “Believe me, _please._ They’re not dreams. I _know it._ ” 

“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Dr. Schuster said calmly. “I’m only suggesting that some elements may be exaggerated by your fears.”

“I was raped,” Gerard said, starting to sob. “I was raped and now I can’t even look at my boyfriend without thinking about it—and it’s not something I can just talk to him about, because I can’t just say ‘oh, I was raped eight years ago and I’m only going to start crying about it now,’ like, how stupid is that?”

“It is not stupid, Gerard. If you have repressed memories of trauma and they return, PTSD often comes with it. Remember, if you ever want to have a mediated conversation with him, just bring him to a session and we can all talk. I know you really love Frank, and you don’t want to let this come between you.”

“I just…I just can’t talk to him,” Gerard said, wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeve. “I wake up in the night from those dreams and he asks me what’s wrong and I…I can’t—I can’t even look at him,” Gerard said, breaking down into sobs. “I miss him so much,” he wept. “I want Frank back—I want what we had back, and I’m going to lose him and I’m gonna have to go through this all alone.”

“Why don’t we set up an extra appointment, Gerard? So you and Frank can talk and I can help you express what you need to. It may be hard for him to accept your needs at first, but together we can help him understand that a rape carries trauma that doesn’t clear up overnight. The pain can return anytime, and he needs to know that it’s not his fault, and it’s not your fault, and that the two of you can work through it.”

“I don’t want to tell him,” Gerard sniffed. “I just…”

“You’re hoping the dreams will stop and it can go away.”

“Right,” Gerard murmured, knowing how ridiculous it sounded.

“Even if the dreams stop, Gerard, the memories are still there. If you’ve suffered an assault, especially rape, the emotions you’re having need to be addressed before they turn into severe depression and anxiety.”

“But what if it wasn’t rape?” Gerard asked suddenly. “What if I wanted it—what if I let them do it for money?”

“You mean prostitution?” Dr. Schuster asked, raising a brow. He didn’t like her look. 

“I mean…I know I’ve done stuff for money before; Mikey told me…but I don’t remember. Maybe that’s how it started…”

“Then the man from your dream who gave you cocaine could be a pimp.”

“I was a fucking crackwhore—I fucking knew it,” Gerard sobbed, burying his face in his hands and feeling like he might be sick. “I fucked for drugs—I let them fuck me up for money for crack! Oh, God. What’s Frank going to say to _that!?_ And you want me to just sit down and _tell_ him!? He’ll _leave_ me!”

“Gerard, you’re making assumptions.”

“I was told my face got money! I was given crack! I was _fucked!_ What’s _not_ to be assumed by that?”

“Gerard…”

“Dr. Schuster, what happened to me?” Gerard asked, weeping helplessly and feeling afraid. He didn’t want to leave his appointment. He didn’t want to go home. There were things outside that scared him, and there were things at home he couldn’t face. He felt so lost. “I hear that man talk and I _believe_ what he says—I believe him when he tells me what I am.”

“Okay, Gerard,” Dr. Schuster said, extending a gentle hand in his direction and caressing his knee softly to give him comfort. “Let’s assume you _were_ caught up in some sort of sex trade—prostitution, stripping, anything—okay? Your memory lapse starts when you were fifteen. It’s possible that you got convinced to join in something you didn’t comprehend and that you were taken advantage of. It wasn’t your fault, Gerard. You were just a child…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Gerard mumbled, looking down at the floor again. “I was a whore…I feel like a whore. Frank deserves better than that…”

“Gerard, do you want to break up with Frank?”

“No,” Gerard said, sobbing again. “I really love him—I love him more than anyone else, and I want him with me, but what good am I? I’m a wreck and I don’t even know who I am anymore! And we can’t have sex—I came here to talk about the sex, why are we talking about the rest?” Dr. Schuster fixed him with her curious gaze again and Gerard felt like he might melt into the floor. 

“You can’t have sex with Frank because of the PTSD from your nightmares and the rape in your past. We’ve answered your question; now let’s work toward a solution, okay?”

“Okay,” Gerard whimpered, feeling small. 

“You have to _tell_ Frank what’s going on. Tell him what you’re dreaming and what you make of them.”

“He’ll leave me,” Gerard whimpered. “Shouldn’t I just dump him before he throws me away? I…I don’t think I could handle being dumped by him. What else is there to live for? We can barely even keep up the band…”

“You still don’t feel comfortable singing?”

“The lyrics bring the nightmares back and I don’t want my band to see me cry because my song talks about being dead…”

“Okay…have you talked at all to your band?”

“No!” Gerard argued. “What are _they_ going to think? I mean, besides Mikey and Frank. Ray doesn’t need this, and Bob won’t put up with it! I’ll ruin the fucking band that my brother loves and I’ll lose all my friends and I’ll be alone again—I really don’t want to be alone. I’m so fucking terrified. I’m terrified of everything going on around me—I see men in sunglasses and I _honestly_ start to piss myself in fear. I _peed._ On _main street._ Because I guy pulled up beside me to ask directions! How fucking pathetic is that!?”

“Do you think you might benefit from an anti-anxiety prescription?”

“I don’t want drugged up,” Gerard moaned. “I don’t want prescription highs…”

“A weak prescription won’t cause addiction, Gerard, but it might take the edge off so you aren’t so afraid to go outside. Anxiety is a psychological condition, and like any illness of the body, it needs treated.”

“I’d rather just talk about it…I don’t want all drugged up.”

“Okay, and that’s alright, too. Let’s go back to your home life with Frank. What happens when Frank approaches you for sex?” Gerard just shrugged and stared at the floor.

“He kisses me and tells me I look good…that’s how it always starts, I mean. Like, we could just be sitting on the couch or making dinner and he’ll think it’s okay to make passes at me like that.”

“You feel like he’s hitting on you?” Dr. Schuster asked, the curiosity back on her face.

“No…It’s just that I’m not always in the mood. I used to be—I used to want to, but now I don’t. It makes me so fucking sad, too—because he’s my boyfriend and we’re supposed to fuck, and I _can’t._ ”

“So when Frank initiates, you feel obligated to reciprocate the actions?”

“Yeah,” Gerard whispered. “I mean…we’re lovers. We’re supposed to make love. And he’s my boyfriend, so I’m supposed to want sex with him—but I don’t…”

“I know the nightmares and the memories contribute, but do you think that your feelings of being obligated add to you not wanting to be intimate?” 

“Maybe,” Gerard mumbled. “I mean, it’s not so great if you know you don’t have a ch-choice.” All of a sudden the tears were back and more intense than ever—and he didn’t know why. 

( ) ( ) ( )

He felt like he was staring into the abyss, but he was really only staring at his reflection in the mirror. Whose face was this? Whose eyes were these?

For some reason, they didn’t feel like they were his…

He was seeing things in his dreams… Remembering things he’d rather not.

Abuses. Tortures. Crimes against humanity…

What kind of men had he been dating in the past?...and why did their cruelties _still_ leave an impression in his mind? As soon as he remembered the pain and the insults, he felt his self-esteem drop. He felt himself becoming worthless and damaged…

There was nothing inside of him left to love, and when he looked at Frank he saw a beast. Frank couldn’t possibly love him. Frank, just like the rest, wanted that one specific thing…

“I love you,” Frank said, kissing up Gerard’s throat. Gerard laid with his head on the pillow, staring at his reflection in the mirror on their dresser. Frank was overtop him, kissing and sucking on his neck, nipping on his chin and whispering into his ear. “You’re so beautiful.”

“No I’m not,” Gerard whispered, staring himself down in the mirror and not liking what was looking back. 

When he looked at himself, he saw his body in the eyes of the man of his nightmares. He saw obesity, he saw grease, he saw a sight worth vomiting over…

Frank groaned and sat up quickly, sitting back on Gerard’s thighs and sighing heavily.

“What’s _wrong?_ ” Frank asked, more annoyance in his voice than love. He had a right…he really did. It’d been two months since they’d had sex, and over a month since Gerard had granted Frank any physical attention. He just didn’t feel it anymore. 

“Nothing,” Gerard whispered. “I just…don’t…”

“Fine,” Frank said, getting off of the bed and walking into the bathroom slowly. “That’s fine…”

Gerard just stared at his reflection in the mirror, hating what he saw until he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

( ) ( ) ( )

“Gerard, we _have_ to talk,” Frank said, cornering Gerard in the kitchen as he prepared his morning coffee.

“…do we?” Gerard asked, playing with the coffee filter and taking twice as long to put it into the coffee maker.

“Yes…”

“I wasn’t in the mood,” Gerard said quickly. “I just wasn’t feeling it. Satisfied?”

“No, I’m not,” Frank argued. “Gerard, you don’t _talk_ to me anymore. It’s not just the nightmares. It’s everything… You don’t tell me about work or your lyrics or your art. You’re gone, Gerard, and I miss you.”

“I’m here,” Gerard answer emptily. 

“No, _you’re not…_ You’re gone.”

“Because I don’t want to fuck?” Frank had a sinking feeling in stomach when Gerard said that. He remembered more than he was letting on, and Frank worried about what it was that was hovering over him. 

“Because you don’t talk to me,” Frank said softly. 

“Because I don’t talk to you about why I don’t want to fuck,” Gerard said coolly. 

“At all!” Frank called. “You don’t talk to me at all anymore…I _miss_ you. I miss you a lot…”

“I’m here,” Gerard mumbled. “Can I please just have my morning coffee without getting attacked please? I get enough of that at night.”

Frank frowned and looked at the floor of their kitchen. Gerard was gone, and he had some serious doubts that he was ever going to be coming back…

“Do you love me?” Frank asked softly.

“Yeah,” Gerard answered, turning around and giving Frank a confused look as if he didn’t understand why Frank had to ask. 

“You stopped saying it.” Gerard looked him over and then turned back around. Frank didn’t need to say that Gerard had quit showing it too. It wasn’t just the sex, it was the lack of touch, the lack of communication, the lack of overall attention. Gerard was like a ghost. He came home from work, ate, wrote, and went to sleep. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Gerard answered. “I’m just not horny anymore. Get over it, please? I’m not your fucking whore.” Gerard took the cup of coffee that had just finished brewing and threw it into the kitchen sink, breaking the cup and sending drops of scalding hot liquid all over the room. More than a few drops splattered Gerard’s arms, and a few good drops hit Frank dead in the face. “I’m going to work early.”

Not even dressed for work, Gerard left the townhouse without his keys. 

( ) ( ) ( )

“I don’t know what you’re wanting me to say,” Mikey said quietly. “He’s your boyfriend—you can’t just _not_ fuck your boyfriend and expect everything to go okay. I broke up with a girl once because she wouldn’t put out enough. I’m not proud of it, she was a nice girl, but I had needs…”

“And now you’re single—and will be until you grow up,” Gerard mumbled.

“What do you want?” Mikey asked again. “I’m just being honest. You can’t stop sleeping with him and then expect him to stay with you and stay happy. It just doesn’t work that way. You have to at least tell him why.”

“I…can’t,” Gerard said, collapsing onto the floor at his brother’s feet. He was instantly in tears at the thought of explaining his complicated peril. 

“Whoa—whoa, hey! Hey, what happened? What’s wrong?” Mikey knelt down beside him and started rubbing his back firmly. “Gerard?”

“I can’t talk to him,” Gerard sobbed, covering his face in shame. “I’m embarrassed.”

“Why?” Mikey asked, his voice unusually sympathetic. “Why, Gerard? Frank loves you more than anything. He’ll understand.”

“Well…like last weekend—I really wanted him to do something for me so I-I offered to blow him if he did what I asked, and he did, but then when it came time to do what I promised, I couldn’t do it. I felt so fucking bad—like a fucking tease. I really wanted to try; I didn’t want to be a liar. But when I was trying to talk myself into it, I just felt so sick. Like…I felt like I was being raped—by _myself._ I mean, I’ve done things I didn’t want to before, but nothing like this—and I had to try so hard just to not cry in front of him.”

“Gerard…”

“I wanted to make him happy—I want to make Frank happy, you know? I love him—I fucking love him more than _anything,_ but I can’t do this to him… I _promised_ him if he did what I asked I’d sleep with him, and I _couldn’t._ Do you know how bad that feels? I couldn’t even get myself to try…”

“That’s…that’s _fine,_ Gerard,” Mikey said. “Talk to Frank. He’ll _understand._ You don’t need to break up with him.”

“I can’t talk to him,” Gerard cried. “I can’t even look at him. It makes me want to cry as soon as I see him, and I don’t even know why…”

“What happened?” Mikey asked. “Why did this start happening?”

“I have nightmares…about my life before.” Mikey was silent. “I remember these awful things and I feel really sick…I feel awful.”

“Nightmare about before?” Mikey asked. Gerard looked at him and his face was pale.

“What happened to me?” Gerard asked. He saw that Mikey’s eyes held answers, even though his mouth uttered that he didn’t know. “Mikey, please…”

“Talk to Frank,” Mikey said softly. “He’ll understand, Gerard.”

“I’m talking to _you!_ ” Gerard cried. “What _happened_ to me!?” 

“Y-you ran away from home at fifteen, Gerard. I don’t _know_ what you did…”

“I didn’t run away,” Gerard whimpered. “I _didn’t._ I know I didn’t…”

“You…you did, Gerard.”

“Why are you lying to me?” Gerard asked, looking at his brother in a desperate search for answers he didn’t want. 

“Gerard…go home and talk to Frank. Just _talk_ to him, and this will all go away.” Mikey turned his back to him and started for his guitar which was mounted on the wall. “Then we can play music again and be…happy for once in our lives.”

“Mikey…”

“Just…talk to your boyfriend. You can talk to him just like you have with me. It won’t be any different.”

“Okay,” Gerard said, lowering his gaze and feeling alienated. Everyone was keeping secrets… Everyone was in on this, and he didn’t even know what _this_ was…


	3. Chapter 3

Gerard lay on the mattress, staring up at the dark ceiling and observing the orange smears of light reflecting from the outside street light on the glass covering of the overhead light fixture. Frank was over top him, but Gerard couldn’t focus on that without starting to feel tears well in his eyes. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Frank whispered into Gerard’s ear. Gerard closed his eyes tightly and held his breath as Frank pressed his lips against Gerard’s neck. He began to suck on the skin gently and Gerard let his breath out shakily. “You’re so beautiful, Gerard,” Frank repeated, leaving Gerard’s neck to kiss him gently on the lips. 

“Y-you’re h-handsome, Frankie,” Gerard stammered, trying not to burst into tears.

“I love you,” Frank moaned, running his hands up Gerard’s sides slowly. Gerard’s breath hitched in his throat and turned his face away from Frank’s slowly. 

“Love you, t-too,” Gerard choked out. Frank kissed him harshly—one might call it passionately—and Gerard just tried not to sob. 

_Just let him do this,_ Gerard said to himself. _Just let him have his way—just like with the man in your dream. Just let him have what he wants._

Gerard squeezed his eyes shut when he felt Frank rut his bare erection against his thigh. He felt so broken and so conflicted. This was Frank—he _loved_ Frank—but he couldn’t sleep with Frank anymore, even though they’d slept together countless times before and even though Frank had done nothing to wrong him.

Maybe Frank was keeping secrets about Gerard’s past, but that wasn’t the reason Gerard couldn’t bear his touch. It was the fucking nightmares—they were coming between them and tearing them apart.

And they weren’t even something Gerard felt comfortable trying to explain. He didn’t have words for it, because it wasn’t just the nightmares…it was something else, too. Something he couldn’t put his finger on.

It made him feel guilty. It made him feel gross and ashamed.

Touch made him so uncomfortable, so when Frank ran his hand up Gerard’s thigh and grabbed his half-hard cock, the first sob broke out.

Frank didn’t even notice it, it had been so long since the last time they’d made love.

Gerard had been so unfair to his lover…it was just like Mikey said. He couldn’t just go on without sleeping with Frank and expect it to have no negative consequences.

“You’re so sexy, Beautiful. I love you,” Frank breathed into Gerard’s ear before pressing his lips back onto his neck once again.

Gerard felt the tears fall from his eyes, but held his breath so the sobs wouldn’t break out and so Frank wouldn’t hear his sniffing. 

“So sexy,” Frank said again, pumping Gerard’s fading erection slowly.

Gerard could suppress the sobs that came and Frank recoiled from him quickly, breaking all contact and climbing off of Gerard’s legs.

“Gerard?” Frank asked, worry overcoming the lust in his voice. Gerard began to weep helplessly.

What kind of boyfriend was he? He couldn’t even give Frank the things he was entitled to anymore, and he couldn’t tell him why. 

He was so worthless. He was so _useless._ He was _so_ broken…

“Gerard? Please, what’s wrong? What did I do?”

Gerard shook his head and sobbed, covering his eyes as he wept pathetically. He was such a terrible boyfriend—he was so fucking worthless. So useless!

“Gerard?” Frank pleaded, sounding like he might cry himself. Gerard felt even worse. This wasn’t what he wanted! This was his mess, not Frank’s… Frank didn’t need to suffer. Frank deserved someone with their shit together—someone so much better than him.

He was nothing but worthless, useless, broken… **damaged goods.**

Gerard sat up in bed as a wave of nausea struck him and his stomach tightened threateningly. 

“Gee?” Frank asked, grabbing at Gerard in the pitch dark.

Gerard shook his head, swallowing against the twisting feeling in his guts and sniffing back more tears. As soon as he thought he had the feeling under control, another pang hit him and he gagged violently.

“Gerard, what did I do!?” Frank pleaded.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Gerard cried, the tears breaking free again. But he wasn’t fine. Once again, the nausea made itself known and the acid forced itself up into his throat in another powerful retch. “I’m fine,” he sobbed, able to hold the contents of his stomach back with nothing more than will power. 

“No, you’re not fine,” Frank said, starting to cry himself. “What did I do? Gerard, what’s wrong?”

Gerard just didn’t answer. He didn’t have the words for it. As much as he wanted to comfort Frank, all he could do was stifle his cries and try not to let his true weakness show.

“Gerard, please?” Frank begged. Gerard hated hearing him like this, but he didn’t know what to say… “I’ll go sleep on the couch, okay?” Frank said, a sob breaking his voice. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to push you. I didn’t know how bad I was hurting you,” he cried.

“N-no!” Gerard cried, grabbing for Frank in the dark, terrified that Frank would push him away. “No—stay here! Stay with me!” 

He didn’t even know that that was what he wanted until the words had pushed past his lips. He didn’t want to be alone. As uncomfortable as he was, and as terrible he was as a boyfriend and lover, he didn’t want to let Frank go. He loved him so fucking much that it wasn’t even fair.

He would _die_ for Frank without a second thought if he had to. He needed Frank, and he wanted to be with Frank…he adored him. He was _obsessed_ with him. It wasn’t something he could explain, but he felt like he _belonged_ to Frank…It wasn’t even possible for him to consider letting Frank walk out of his life—even if he’d singlehandedly pushed him away.

“Gerard, what did I do?” Frank whispered, pulling Gerard into a tight, protective hug. “Please, Baby, tell me what I did wrong.”

Gerard shook his head and closed his eyes tight, trying to block out the images in his head as he calmed himself down. He just focused on breathing—not on the dizziness or the nausea. Just on the breaths—in, out—and his chest—up, down—just breathing…breathing…dark and quiet.

So quiet.

( ) ( ) ( )

“Gerard, what you’re describing sounds like a stress reaction, an anxiety attack…You said that you were only crying for a few moments before you started to gag. Usually, when one throws up from crying, that person has been crying for a long period of time or starts coughing. Were there other feelings at this time?”

“Well…Yeah,” Gerard answered, looking down at the carpet of his therapist’s office. “I felt…I felt really bad when Frank was touching me. I didn’t really want him to be doing it, but…I felt obligated because he’s my boyfriend.”

“Describe the ‘bad’ feeling, Gerard,” Dr. Schuster said quietly, fixing him with her curious gaze.

“I can’t,” Gerard murmured. 

“Was it anger?” Dr. Schuster asked, crossing her legs and looking at him intensely. 

“No,” Gerard answered. “It wasn’t anger or frustration or anything like that. It was more… It was—I don’t know. It was just _bad._ ”

“Bad towards whom? Yourself or Frank?”

Gerard paused for a moment and thought. 

“It was…toward me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t—”

“You _do_ know, Gerard. Don’t push the answer away. Don’t hide it from yourself.”

“I’m not hiding it,” Gerard groaned. “I just…I feel like I can’t be what Frank needs—I’ve told you that before. I feel so fucking useless to him—and it’s not just in bed. I can’t comfort him on bad days anymore because _I’m_ so fucked up that I can’t handle him when _he’s_ fucked up. I feel so worthless…So _fucking_ worthless!” Gerard buried his face in his hands and started to cry. “I’m fucking worthless—what does he want with me!? What does he want with something like me!?”

“Some… _thing,_ Gerard?”

Gerard had felt something shift inside of him when the words came out of his mouth. Like something snapped into place, and it wasn’t something pleasant. It was dark. He felt a cold, black mist settle in his mind and he swallowed hard against it. 

“I…I don’t know,” Gerard answered, looking up from the carpet and staring his therapist in the eyes. “Dr. Schuster, something feels wrong,” he said quickly, before he could push the words back. “I-I feel wrong—please, what’s wrong with me?”

Dr. Schuster was quick to regain her composure and she jotted a long entry down on her notepad.

“Gerard, you referred to yourself as feeling useless, worthless, and as a _thing._ You’re referring to yourself in an objectified way—like you’re an object, or property, and not even a person.” Gerard shuddered when she said property and had no idea why. The black mist stirred, but he tried to suppress it. It was so dark…so cold…he didn’t want to know. He _didn’t_ want to know. “Is that how you feel, Gerard?”

“Is…what how I feel?” Gerard asked, trying desperately to dodge the question.

“Gerard…do you feel like you’re a piece of property to Frank? Like he _owns_ you, or that your only value is in being a good partner for him?”

“Good _lover_ you mean?” Gerard asked, dodging the question again. He started chewing his lip and ran his fingers through his hair anxiously.

“What’s going on, Gerard? You’re starting to sweat.”

“You can’t _own_ people,” Gerard said, feeling like he was quoting someone. 

“Is that something you believe?”

“No,” Gerard said, feeling his stomach twist when the words came out involuntarily. 

“ _No?_ ”

“I need to leave,” Gerard said, standing up and almost falling over the leg of the chair he was sitting in. “I have to go.”

“Gerard, wait—wait, you’re panicking. Please, just sit down until you feel better—until you feel calm. We won’t talk about it anymore. Let’s talk about how to communicate with Frank, alright? Please, sit down, Gerard.”

Gerard fell back into his chair, but not because he wanted to. His legs were shaking so hard that he felt he might fall onto the ground if he took another step.

“I think I was a prostitute,” Gerard choked out, biting his lip hard once the words were out. “I think that’s why I’m so…so still in the dreams. Like, when the men hurt me, I just lay there and let them…It would make sense if it were because I was getting paid, right?”

“I don’t think we should talk about this anymore this session, Gerard,” Dr. Schuster said, fixing him with a concerned gaze instead of the curious one Gerard respected her for. 

“Dr. Schuster—why did I let them do that?” Gerard asked, starting to cry as he was faced with images from his nightmares.

“Maybe, Gerard…you didn’t have a choice.”

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard sat on the couch beside his boyfriend feeling a depression more crushing than anything he’d ever felt before in his entire life. Every time Frank would look at him Gerard felt a knife sink deeper into his chest. 

He felt so guilty and so sad. He felt like he’d betrayed Frank. He felt like he was ruining everything they’d ever had—and everything they could ever have—for absolutely no reason.

He had no reason to be so cold to Frank, no reason at all… He had bad dreams and he had a dark past—why did he need to let that take over his life now?

But he couldn’t help the sick feeling he got whenever Frank would touch him or look at him. Whenever the two of them were alone, Gerard felt like he could burst into tears at any given second. It wasn’t fair to do this to Frank. He couldn’t hold out on him forever, and he couldn’t even bear the thought of doing anything physical. 

Sleeping in the same bed at night was hard enough, not to mention their kisses…

Frank would kiss him and Gerard would have to push him away, turn his face away, try not to cry and try not to choke. He was hurting Frank, but Frank was hurting him too. 

Their relationship was at a standstill, and it wasn’t even Frank’s fault—they were just at a crossroads and Frank could have done nothing to prevent it. 

It was horrible, because the only options Gerard saw to liberate Frank from the pain he caused him were to break up with him or commit suicide.

It tore Gerard apart to think that it had truly come to this. What was he supposed to tell Frank when everything fell apart around them? “Don’t worry—it’s not you, it’s me.” Frank wouldn’t believe that, even if it was the truth.

Gerard had fallen into this mess all on his own. Frank had nothing to do with it… Frank was the victim, and he would do a lot better if Gerard weren’t around.

“Sweetheart?” Frank said softly. Gerard sunk his teeth into his lower lip and tried to hide his fear. 

What would Frank want? A kiss? A hug?

Gerard didn’t want either. Both caused him pain.

“Hm?” Gerard mumbled in response.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Gerard answered, staring at the floor so he wouldn’t have to see the hurt in Frank’s eyes. 

Frank was the only man he’d ever loved, and this was how he showed it to him—ignoring his needs, staring at him in fear…

He just felt like he was going to burst into uncontrollable tears…and how would he explain _that_ to Frank? 

“Gerard, I…I really feel like something is wrong. Can you please, _please_ try talking to me? I’m here for you—I promise, I’ll listen.”

“No,” Gerard said, glancing at Frank, seeing the look he feared the most, and quickly turning his eyes away. “I’m fine—it’s nothing, Frank. Really.”

“Gerard…”

“Please, Frank,” Gerard said, getting up from the couch. “I’m okay—Don’t worry about me, please. I don’t want you to be upset, okay?”

“Seeing you hurt upsets me, Gerard,” Frank said, reaching for Gerard who backed away from him. The pain the small gesture caused them both was palpable on the air. “I’m sorry, Gerard,” Frank said, tears growing in his eyes. 

Gerard turned his back to him quickly so he wouldn’t have to see the pain he caused. 

They’d been so happy. How had he let it turn to this? How could he be so cruel to Frank?

His options played over again when he heard Frank sniff back tears.

Leave him or leave him for good.

The pain would only last for a little while, right? Then he could never, ever hurt him again.

And if he were dead, his past wouldn’t matter. It would be gone. Everything would just _go away._

“Please, can’t we work on this?” Frank asked, tears on his voice.

“It’s not something _we_ can work on. It’s just me…”

“I don’t want to lose you, Gerard. I love you more than anything. It would kill me to lose you, please…”

Gerard covered his face with his hands and prepared himself to run. He literally just wanted to run out of the room and never, ever look back. Run straight out of their town house and into the street.

“I love you, Gerard,” Frank whispered.

“I love you, too,” Gerard said, sinking his teeth into his lip and squeezing his eyes shut. Couldn’t this just end? Couldn’t Frank just get mad and leave?

“Really?” Frank asked, sounding desperate and broken.

“Yeah…”

( ) ( ) ( )

“Bob, can I…talk to you for a little bit?” Gerard asked.

Bob stared at the man in shock. Gerard barely spoke at practice, let alone spoke to him. He couldn’t help but wonder what the hell he wanted. 

“Yeah…I guess.”

“Is it…okay if we talk outside? I just…” Gerard never finished his sentence. He just looked down at his scuffed Converse shoes and shrugged. Bob didn’t particularly want to go stand outside and bullshit with the lead singer who wouldn’t even sing, but he felt like he didn’t have a choice. Everyone was always on his back about not being nice enough to Gerard, so maybe if he just sat and chatted with the guy, the others would ease up.

“So…what’s up?” Bob asked when he and Gerard were standing on the broken concrete slabs behind their practice studio space. 

“I know…I know that you don’t really want to talk to me—especially not about anything personal…or anything like that, but…” Gerard sighed and passed Bob a quick glance. It made Bob uncomfortable because, honestly, no, he didn’t really want to have personal conversations with the coward that posed as a singer. He was sick of everyone babying the guy and he didn’t want the guy crying to him, too, trying to get pity.

“Well, what is it?” Bob pushed, wanting to go back inside. This was a joke. Just whiny Gerard trying to get more attention.

“It’s about me and Frank…” Bob was glad he was wearing his sunglasses when Gerard began to lay it on thick—telling this whole sob story of not wanting to be around Frank and not knowing why.

He needed the glasses to hide the absolute irritation he knew was showing on his face. 

The guy was just trying to get an excuse to quit the band, and to do that he needed to leave Frank. He just didn’t want to look like the bad guy.

At least, that was Bob’s interpretation.

“Come on, man,” Bob said when the conversation got too personal. “If you’re not sleeping with him, why are you dating him? You know what we call two guys who hang out all the time and have the same interests and shit if they aren’t sleeping together?—Best _fucking_ friends. You two are friends. If you keep dating him, he’s going to expect it. If you don’t want to, then you’d better go back to being _just fucking friends._ ” 

“But that’s…I mean…”

“Are you sleeping with him?” Bob asked, getting away from all of the little details Gerard would undoubtedly try to use to muddy up the perfectly clear image.

“No…”

“Do you want to?” Gerard didn’t want to be with Frank—it was too fucking obvious. He just didn’t want to be the bad guy and end it.

“Not…not right now.”

“Then break up. You don’t love him like that.”

“Yes, I do!” Gerard called out, staring at Bob in shock. Bob was once again thankful for his sunglasses so Gerard couldn’t see his skepticism. 

“Come on…No you don’t. Besides—you can’t date someone and not sleep with them anymore. It doesn’t work that way. You’re not being fair to him. Grow up and do what you know you have to do.” Bob didn’t wait for anymore. He just went back inside, leaving Gerard outside staring at a patch of grass. 

“Where’s Gerard?” Frank asked when Bob came in alone.

“Smocking a cig or something,” he muttered, not wanting to tell Frank—if he wasn’t already aware—that his relationship had gone to shit.

“Oh,” Frank said, looking at the door curiously. “I’m gonna—”

“Leave him be,” Mikey interjected. “Give him some space—you’re going to smother him.”

“Yeah, how are you guys doing?” Ray asked. Bob couldn’t figure out why everyone cared so much Frank and Gerard. He couldn’t figure out why they babied Gerard and why they were all so involved in his and Frank’s relationship.

“Well…we’ve successfully quit talking to each other except for ‘can you turn up the TV’ and ‘what do you want to eat,’” Frank said with a heavy sigh.

“Jesus,” Ray mumbled. “That sucks. I’m sorry, Frank.” 

And what was with the looks they all passed Frank? Even Mikey looked at him with sympathy. Mikey never felt sorry for anyone…

“Is there something I don’t know?” Bob blurted out. He was so sick of all their secrecy. They’d been like that since he’d joined their pathetic excuse for a band. All because they “knew Gerard before” he lost his fucking mind.

“Mind your own business,” Mikey muttered, giving Bob a strange look and strumming his guitar to make sure it worked. 

“It’s my business if it fucks up our band,” Bob said.

“It’s _not_ your business,” Frank mumbled.

“It _is_ if your boyfriend wants me to stand out back with him so he can cry to me about how many issues the two of you are having.”

“He talked to you?” Frank asked, turning to look at Bob with nothing short of horror. “Why would he go to you?”

“Maybe because he knows I’m the only one who won’t bullshit him—he asks you a question and you sugar-coat the answer. I just give it to him straight.”

“What the fuck did you say to him?” Frank snapped.

“That your relationship has gone to shit,” Bob said back, glaring behind his dark glasses.

“Our relationship is not your business!” 

“It is if he asks me for advice!”

“Not if it’s you—you don’t _know_ him!”

“What are you all so afraid of? He can handle the goddamned truth!”

“He doesn’t even _know_ the truth!” Frank screamed. “You don’t fucking know Gerard! _Gerard_ doesn’t even know Gerard!”

“Because he’s got some kind of fucking amnesia? That’s his own damned fault—he _chose_ to get that high, just like _you_ chose to date a junkie who can’t even stand to touch you.”

“He wasn’t a junkie!” Frank yelled, his eyes looking feral. “He wasn’t a fucking junkie! Take it back! You fucking take that back!” 

“Guys, stop,” Ray said, coming between them with his hands raised. “It’s okay. Calm down.”

“It’s _not_ okay!” Frank screamed. “He doesn’t even know Gerard! He wasn’t a junkie, you asshole! He was hurt! He was hurt more than you could ever fucking imagine, you fucking asshole!” 

Frank looked like he might cry and Bob looked to Mikey who hadn’t reacted even when the shouting had started. 

“I’m going to Gerard,” Frank said, turning away from Bob and sounding suddenly weepy. “I just want Gerard.”

“Dude,” Bob said, taking his tone down to one of civility. “He doesn’t feel the same way anymore. Just let him go—he’s suffering.”

“Shut up,” Frank snapped. “You don’t know anything about us.”

“Like what? What do I have to know?”

“We’ve got history, okay?”

“History doesn’t change what he told me, alright?”

“What…what did he say?” Frank asked, setting down his guitar and looking at Bob helplessly. 

“He’s unhappy,” Bob answered. The details didn’t matter. Someone had to tell these guys how it was. Whatever had happened, the truth was that neither of them were happy anymore. “Come on, Frank. It’s over. He’s got nothin’ else to give you.”

“Shut up,” Frank hissed. “I’m not listening to this. I’m getting Gerard and we’re going home.” Frank packed up his guitar quickly and apologized to Mikey and Ray before leaving the studio.

( ) ( ) ( )

When Frank got outside, Gerard was nowhere to be found. He searched the entire perimeter of the building and found nothing. So he hurried back inside and searched the bathroom and all the hallways. He was nowhere…

And their car was gone. 

Could Gerard have really just left without him? 

He took his cell phone out of his pocket and tried calling him, but Gerard didn’t answer. 

He left a sappy voicemail and then went back inside to wait for Ray to leave so he could ask for a ride home.

“Give him a little space,” Ray said. “Come hang out at my place for a little while. Let him…let him cry it out in peace. Whatever Bob told him, he’ll come to you in the end. He just needs to figure out what to tell you.”

Frank was stupid enough to believe him and let himself end up at Ray’s when all he really wanted was to be with Gerard.

( ) ( ) ( )

_“Gerard, whatever he told you was wrong. Please, don’t let him get to you. Bob doesn’t know you. He just wants to upset you—please, just come to me. I’m here, Gerard. I love you so much and I’ll do anything you ask me to. Please don’t listen to Bob. I don’t know what he told you, but I don’t want you to go. I love you. Please, call me back okay?”_

Gerard listened to the voicemail and then turned off his phone.

What was Frank thinking? They were over. They were _so broken._

They lay beside each other in bed at night trying not to cry. Frank pretended he wasn’t torn up when Gerard didn’t want touched by him—he pretended that he hadn’t been completely heartbroken the night Gerard had wept just from his touch alone. When they looked at each other, they just saw the walls in each other’s eyes. Frank was trying to hide his pain; Gerard was trying to hide himself.

Gerard felt cruel. He felt evil. 

They would lay beside each other at night and Gerard would feel useless. He was supposed to be kissing Frank. They were supposed to be making love like couples should. He should be giving Frank what he expected and deserved. 

It was like Mikey had said, and exactly like Bob had said—he couldn’t just sleep with his boyfriend then just stop one day and expect nothing bad to happen.

At first, he’d been afraid that Frank would leave him. Now he knew what the truth was.

Frank couldn’t leave…Frank would never leave. He would rather suffer through the agony of being in love with a car wreck than be alone and it made Gerard feel awful. It was his fault Frank was miserable. 

Gerard stared at his reflection in the mirror over their dresser and glared.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asked his reflection. His reflection didn’t answer. “Who are you!?” He screamed, as if really expecting an answer. 

He closed his eyes tightly and sobbed even though he was so sick of crying. 

“Who am I?” He asked, hoping that salvation would come with the answer.

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and moaned in the agony of trying to tear through his mind in search of answers.

What was there in those stupid shadows? What had he hidden from himself?

Whatever it was, it was tearing his relationship apart and he just wanted to go back to whatever he’d had before. He’d been with Frank once before—couldn’t they just go back to that? Who cared if he was high? Who cared if he’d been about to die because of his addictions?

_It’s a lie._

The voice came out of nowhere and Gerard almost pulled away when he heard it. He was afraid, but it held answers. He held still and let everything stay the same.

With his eyes closed, it was cold. It was quiet. It was dark.

“What’s a lie?” Gerard asked himself, thinking harder. 

_There were no drugs. You know that. You’ve known that_ all _along._

“Then…what’s there?” Gerard asked himself. He felt his body grow cold and he was afraid of what he’d hear.

The voice said nothing.

“Please,” Gerard sobbed. “Please, tell me what happened to me. Who am I?”

Nothing.

“Who am I!?” He cried, looking up and seeing that fake reflection that _wasn’t_ him. “Who _was_ I?”

No reply.

Gerard sank to the floor and sobbed, covering his face and crying into his hands.

“What am I supposed to do?” He asked, wanting the voice to come back. “What am I supposed to do—please help me…”

_You know what to do,_ the voice mumbled.

“I don’t wanna leave him,” Gerard cried. “I love him—I really love him…”

_It’s not your place to worry about what’s best for you._

“Do I really hurt him that bad?” Gerard asked, looking up from his hands, even though he knew no one was standing there.

_It’s not_ your place _to worry about what’s best for you._

Gerard stared at the doorway and could’ve sworn he’d seen an image of himself standing there. It looked just like what he remembered.

Hair too long, skin to pale, and eyes too dead to really see anything at all. He looked mean. He looked broken and ruined. 

_Get out of here. You don’t even belong here._

Gerard felt that he would sooner die than risk losing the only voice of reason he’d heard in _years…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I started working second shift and now I have no time to write!!!

When Ray finally dropped Frank off at his and Gerard’s townhouse, his emotions were still a wreck and all he wanted in the world was a hug from his boyfriend that didn’t end with one of them crying.

But that, he knew, was too much to hope for. Bob had given Gerard the very worst advice—the very _best_ advice for anyone who wasn’t _Gerard._ Gerard couldn’t leave—he couldn’t just leave. He would go out on his own and have flashbacks and be scared all by himself with no one there to protect him and make him feel safe.

Gerard couldn’t leave…

…but was it really Frank’s right to decide what was best for Gerard?

Frank held his breath as he unlocked and opened the front door of his townhouse, but lost it as soon as the door was open. As he tried to go in, Gerard had attempted to run out—neither of them expecting the other to be there.

Gerard smashed into him as if he’d been at a full run, knocking both of them backwards. Frank fell back onto the concrete steps and scraped the heels of both his hands, but through his pain he focused on Gerard who seemed to throw himself backwards into the house and onto the ground.

Immediately, his boyfriend began wailing. When he started to cry, their two dogs began yapping hysterically in some far room—as if they had been locked away and were trying to come to see what was happening.

“I wasn’t going to leave!” Gerard started crying, crawling backwards across their floor. “I swear to God!—I wasn’t trying to leave!” Frank looked from to Gerard to a bulky object on the floor beside him.

A suitcase. A stuffed one.

“I wasn’t going anywhere! I wasn’t! I wasn’t going to leave!” Gerard just kept screaming it over and over, fumbling away from the door on his hands and knees until he fell onto his side and started ripping at his hair. The more hysterical he became, the louder their dogs yapped. “I wasn’t going anywhere! _I wasn’t going anywhere!_ ”

Frank got to his feet slowly and kept his eyes fixed on his boyfriend who was in total hysterics. He didn’t know what to say to him. He didn’t know how to fix this—or if there was a way to repair the damage.

“Gerard?” Frank said quietly, taking slow steps back up the concrete stairs into his townhouse. 

Gerard stopped pulling at his hair and just laid still, covering his face with his hands and muttering rapidly under his breath.

“Gerard?” Frank said again. “Are you okay?” It was stupid question, but it was all he could think to ask. It was too hard to focus with all the noise—the crying, the barking, and whimpering…

“I wasn’t going to leave,” Gerard whimpered, peeking out from between his fingers until he curled into a ball and covered the back of his head with his arms.

Frank took another step closer and closed the front door behind him, pain exploding in his scraped and bloody palm as he handled the door knob. As soon as the door latched, Gerard snapped once again. 

“Don’t hurt me! I wasn’t going anywhere!” He burst into sobs so intense that they turned to wheezes when he couldn’t break for air.

“I won’t hurt you—I won’t hurt you, Sweetheart,” Frank said, looking at the suitcase one last time before kneeling down and placing a hand on Gerard’s side. 

Of course, Gerard recoiled from him.

“I wasn’t going to leave,” Gerard cried. “I swear…” His voice was shaking horribly, and the only time Frank remembered Gerard in that state of distress had been the first night they’d met… 

Gerard wouldn’t be able to calm himself down enough to see reason. There was only one way to handle him when he was like this—control him. Take charge of him.

“You need to go to bed, Sweetheart,” Frank said, making his voice firm despite his fear and ultimate sadness. Gerard choked and lowered his arms from his head. “It’s late. You’re tired.”

“Y-yeah,” Gerard stammered, slowly uncurling himself from his protective ball. 

“You’re really tired,” Frank said, standing up and offering Gerard his scuffed-up hand when the man didn’t seem to be able to find his own legs. He was surprised when Gerard accepted it…until he saw his eyes. 

They showed nothing but sheer terror. Gerard didn’t have any idea about what was going on around him. All he knew was that he didn’t want hurt and his mind was racing through every instinctive way he knew to avoid being struck. 

“I’m really tired, Frank,” Gerard said, suddenly looking him in the eye. The clouds seemed to go away then, but the fear remained. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“You’re just scared,” Frank said softly, guiding his boyfriend back into their bedroom slowly. With each step, Gerard’s legs threatened to give out. Frank was thankful Gerard was too disoriented to hide from his touch…he loved Gerard. He missed touching him in even the slightest, most innocent ways. 

“What happened to me?” Gerard asked in a choked whisper as Frank sat him down on their bed. “Why am I like this?” 

Frank watched as Gerard covered his face and began to cry. He couldn’t keep this up anymore. Gerard was dying right in front of him. He was thin, he was pale, he looked sick…he looked so damned tired.

Frank didn’t want to hurt him anymore.

“Gerard…” Frank took a deep breath and closed his eyes tightly. He felt sick to his stomach. Years ago he made a promise…was he really prepared to destroy that? When he opened his eyes he saw all the agony in his lover’s eyes and thought no more about promises. “Sweetheart, someone abused you…for eight years. He hurt you really bad.”

“He’s real,” Gerard sobbed. Even through his agony he sounded relieved. It had to be liberating to know that the monster he was afraid of didn’t just live inside his mind.

“Yes,” Frank admitted. “But he can’t hurt you anymore. I promise, he can’t hurt you anymore.”

“He’s real,” Gerard repeated, sniffing and folding into himself.

“You wanted to forget him and move on,” Frank said quietly, watching his boyfriend shatter into a thousand tiny pieces. 

“Why did he hurt me?” Gerard sobbed, sounding as if he thought that an answer could soothe his pain. Frank wished he had an answer. He would do practically anything just to see Gerard smile again.

Frank just stayed silent.

“Did he love me?” Gerard asked, looking up and meeting Frank’s gaze. 

“Yeah,” Frank lied. He remembered the man who had surrendered Gerard’s life to him. A cold-hearted man. An evil man. A man who had called this beautiful man a whore…a slave. “He just didn’t know how to show it right…” Gerard slowly stopped crying and just began staring at Frank like he was some sort of god. It was unmistakable. There was _worship_ in those eyes. 

All of Gerard’s walls had come tumbling down…but Frank would bet anything that they would all be back by morning.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard found himself weeping, sitting with his knees hugged tightly to his chest, underneath the dining room table. The cloth covering the polished wood table was long enough to conceal the top half of his body, but he knew that his feet could still easily be seen between the legs of the chairs surrounding him. 

He sobbed harder each second it seemed, until his breaths were short and the collar of his grey shirt was soaked with tears, drool, and snot. On the table, he could hear dishes being set down on the nice, orange placemats. 

“You need to come out from there,” one of the others mumbled briefly. “He told you yesterday if He caught you hidin’ from Him again you were gonna get it.”

Gerard couldn’t take that advice. He whimpered and buried his face in his knees. How could they expect him to just come out and face the beating he’d receive? It would be worst if he hid, but…

The man would come home…he’d eat…he’d take him upstairs and…

Gerard cried harder and bit back a scream.

“Ugh—just _quit!_ ” The other one screamed at him. This man pulled one of the chairs out from the table and reached under the table until his hand was fisted in Gerard’s hair. Gerard screamed then and clawed at the hands even though he knew better.

“Stop!” He cried. “Please! _Please!_ ”

“I’m doin’ this for your own fuckin’ good, kid!” The other one screamed. “You want beat? You want beat _again?_ ”

“No!” Gerard sobbed, still trying to get the man’s hand out of his hair as he was dragged out of the dining room and tossed onto the floor in front of the entrance room. 

“You’ve been here two weeks already—quit hidin’ from him! Be good to Him, and He’ll be good to you, you fuckin’ idiot.”

“Stop it,” the other said in a gentle voice. “Let him be. He’s scared. He’ll learn.”

“I ain’t gonna let him be! Little fucker got _me_ hit last time! It ain’t happenin’ again! I ain’t gettin’ hit because he fucks up again!”

“Shh. He’ll be home soon. If He hears this…good help all three of us.”

Gerard laid on the floor and covered his head, knowing that if he moved the other one would just push him back down.

He covered the back of his head with his hands and cried into the floor. This place was so horrible. He used to daydream about being wealthy and living in a big house, but he took it all back. This house was magnificent, but the price for it was horrible. 

It was better than the Bad Man’s basement, but the pains were all the same in Gerard’s eyes. He was still beaten daily. He was kept cold and his food was scarce… There were no drugs to stifle the pain.

He was glad to have a bed, but he had to share it with either the New Man or the other two…

And that one “companion” was so mean…meaner than the New Man.

“Shit,” the gentle one whispered when the door lock cracked. All of the food wasn’t on the table yet…

“Fuckin’ behave,” the harsh one murmured just before the door slid open. 

Gerard cried quietly, his drool spilling out of his mouth and onto the floor as he watched the door open across the fancy rug four feet away from his face. The man’s polished shoes appeared, his pin-striped trouser leg pulling up as he stepped into the house.

“Wow…you’re actually where I told you to be, Babe,” the New Man said. “But not because you want to be…”

“Please don’t hurt me!” Gerard screamed, getting to his knees and reaching for the man that came steadily closer. “Master, I’m sorry!”

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard’s eyes snapped open and he stared at his reflection in the mirror on his dresser. He could see the terror on his own face. The face that didn’t look like his…

“Gee?” Frank whispered, rolling over and placing a hand on Gerard’s shoulder. Gerard wanted to recoil from him, but he was frozen. 

Something was there in his mind…it was close and he didn’t want to lose it. A thought… A memory… What had he been dreaming just now? What made him wake up?

“Sweetheart?” Frank asked, propping himself up and running a hand down Gerard’s shoulder.

“I forgot to lock the front door,” Gerard said, lying as quickly as possible. He could barely remember the dream this time. Something about tables and men…masters? It was too cloudy…he couldn’t let Frank in on it.

“Sweetheart…I locked the door.”

“Oh,” Gerard whispered, pretending to be relieved. He forced himself to burry back down in his pillow as if about to fall back to sleep and Frank gave in. 

“I love you, Gerard,” Frank whispered. Gerard just hummed sleepily in a voice he wished sounded sweet.

( ) ( ) ( )

“And so…the dreams have just stopped, Gerard?” Dr. Schuster asked. 

Gerard shrugged and stared at the floor beyond the rim of his Styrofoam coffee cup.

“Like I said…I had this dream that I forgot almost as soon as I woke up and I think it had an answer. But then I stopped having the nightmares.” Gerard sighed and took another drink from his warm cup. “I can’t even remember that last dream. I was…under a table. I cried and…someone yelled at me, and then I was begging for something…from someone.”

“And you believe that this dream is also a memory?”

“Frank told me that I was abused by someone in my past…for eight years. _All_ of the years that are missing.”

“Frank could have simply been trying to calm you down.”

“No!” Gerard exclaimed, tired of Dr. Schuster trying to downplay his nightmares to nothing more than elaborate, dark fantasies. “Frank’s not lying! I _know_ it’s true!”

“Have you tried asking your parents or your brother?”

“I don’t…” Gerard sighed and took another drink of coffee. “I don’t want to get them involved anymore. They worry too much and…it’s embarrassing.”

“Why is it embarrassing?”

“ _Why is it…_ Because! Think for yourself for once!” Gerard snapped. “My memory is gone and it’s my own fault! The only thing these dreams are even fucking with is my sex life! Now you ask me why I don’t ask my _family_ about it?”

“There’s no need to get mad, Gerard. I just wanted to see what your logic was.”

“Common fucking sense is what my logic is,” Gerard snapped. He finished his coffee and tossed the cup into the wastebasket meant for tissues. The cup practically took up all of the space. 

“There’s no need to get belligerent either,” Dr. Schuster said in a firm voice. “If you keep this up, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re obviously in no mood to be open with me…”

“Maybe I should go…and find a fuckin’ shrink that fucking believes me.”

“Now, Gerard, it’s not that I don’t believe you—”

“That’s bullshit!” Gerard interjected. “You _don’t_ believe me! You spend all of our time here trying to convince me that I’m wrong—but I’m not! I know that I’m not! It’s all _there_ in my head! I _see_ it! I _feel_ it!”

“Gerard…have you _tried_ understanding what sort of situation you were in? I’m not saying that your dreams are just dreams…I’m suggesting that they may be exaggerated by your fears, or combinations of many events that have happened to you in those lost years.”

“No…they seem like they’re intact. I’ve had _normal_ nightmares before, and they usually don’t make any sense when you wake up. But these dreams…they’re fragments of bad moments. The _worst_ parts of bad days…but why did they go away? I was on to something in that last dream…”

“Gerard, we’ve discussed this before… You blocked these memories for a reason. Subconsciously, you could still be fighting tooth and nail to keep those bad things hidden. Think about it. The pain you experienced in those years was so awful, so overwhelming, that you made yourself forget. Made your friends and family promise to keep it all a secret, too.”

“I wouldn’t have tried digging it up if the nightmares hadn’t started…”

“But now they’ve stopped. Do you want to keep chasing shadows, or will you let your past go to rest?”

“I need to know…It’s not even a question now. I’m not who I think I am… Do you know what that’s like? I wake up and I don’t really even recognize myself in the mirror. I don’t look like I think I should…”

“How do you think you should look?”

“Sicker… Thinner… My hair is too short now…”

“Okay…so try putting that appearance with the other traits you’ve discovered in these dreams. You say you feel like you have to do what the men in the dreams tell you to do and that you can’t fight…the dreams are mostly sexual… Do you _think_ you were a prostitute?”

“No,” Gerard mumbled, furrowing his brow and thinking hard. No… That just didn’t seem like the right description…the right _identity._

“I want you to think harder about it,” Dr. Schuster said quietly. “It could have been that you were trapped in an abusive relationship like Frank told you, but there could be more that he left out to avoid hurting you. Was it a relationship…or was it more like human trafficking?”

“What is that?” Gerard asked, cringing involuntarily at the somewhat foreign phrase…

“Human trafficking?” Dr. Schuster asked, tilting her head as if she believed everyone knew the term.

“Yeah,” Gerard mumbled, swallowing hard. He felt the mist at his back again…the one that had left with the dreams three weeks ago.

“Sexual slavery…where men, or women, or often children are sold—”

“I get it,” Gerard interjected. He felt nauseous. “That’s terrible,” he choked out. “Those children…” His mind started racing, and he felt like the black fog in his mind and all around him was made of water beads of memories… “God, those children—you can’t do that to children…” He kept seeing a boy in his mind. Some teenage boy with ratty blonde hair. 

_The boy…You killed that boy…_

“Are you alright, Gerard?” Dr. Schuster asked. 

Gerard guessed the look on his face had to be frightening since the doctor got out of her seat to rush to his side.

“And children…” It was all Gerard could think about. People hurting children…using children in ways that they shouldn’t. Could he have really killed a boy? A child? What was that voice in his head?

“Gerard? What are you…what are you feeling now?”

“Afraid,” Gerard mumbled, standing up quickly. “I want to go see Frank…” He wasn’t a murderer…he wasn’t. He could never hurt anyone!

“Frank is at work, Gerard,” Dr. Schuster affirmed. “Sit down—stay until you’re calm. You’re starting to sweat—you’re having a panic attack.”

“No,” Gerard said, sinking back down onto the couch. “Not…not an attack—I… I see a child.”

“Don’t focus on that—there are a lot of horrible things in the world. Let’s just focus on the things in your _personal_ world…”

“No—I’ve seen this boy. His name…his name is Nicholas. I lived with Nicholas and the man…” Gerard swallowed hard and images from his forgotten dream started coming back. That boy laying on the kitchen floor in a puddle of blood… “There were more men…but they weren’t bad. They were… _We_ were…”

“Gerard, are you remembering or are you making assumptions?”

“There was a boy…I remember him. His name was Nicholas—I…I guess I didn’t like him? He took attention away from me. If I was being abused, why would I be jealous if he took the attention away? “Why would…why did he die?” Gerard began thinking aloud, trying to understand why he felt guilty for the corpse in his memory. 

Absentmindedly he began rubbing at his arm which began to pulse with a dull ache.

“Remember what I said about the nightmares—you’re mixing memories. There could have been many men you were with. Maybe one of them had a son and you were jealous…”

“Not a son,” Gerard said, standing up again. “I have to go to Frank…One night he swore he’d tell me if I asked—I need to know…”

“Gerard, _think_ before you do this to him. If you run to him now—while he’s working—you’re asking him to lie to you. These memories are hard to handle—and he _loves_ you. They’re painful for Frank too, and he won’t want to discuss them freely.”

Gerard collapsed back onto the couch and felt himself being pulled in about nine different directions.

“Now…do you believe that human trafficking played a part in your past?”

He hesitated. He tried to clear his mind of the images and make sense of everything, but a deeper part of him already knew the answer.

“Yes,” he said, slowly nodding his head.

“Okay…and this is based on the bad dreams and the…feelings you’re having now?” 

Gerard nodded slowly and caught a glance of his doctor’s face. She looked like she just realized that she was in over her head.

“I want you…to try to remember where it all began. Your last memory you had before your memories disappear. Can you do that?”

“I can…try,” Gerard mumbled, staring at the floor and trying to fighting lightheadedness. Why was it that whenever he got stressed he felt like fainting? 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard laid in bed and stared at his ceiling. It was white…kind of stained from smoke…tarnished.

Bear and Pig were sleeping between his feet in a pile of fur and fat. Every now and then one of them would sigh or snort, but other than their noises the townhouse was quiet.

Silently, Gerard kept his mind turning, trying not to focus on the images of the dead boy that flooded his mind.

What did he know of his own past? Even the time before those missing years?

To be honest, there wasn’t much of his life left in his mind. He almost felt as if he’d been born twenty-seven…Nothing else was really present in his memory.

Even when he struggled to remember bits of his early childhood, nothing came to mind except for fragments and mental photos. Bullies. Disappointed parents. Mikey being…Mikey. Drugs.

As soon as memories of himself snorting coke in shady living rooms came to his mind, Gerard closed his eyes and rolled over into the comfort of the blankets, pulling his feet free from the dogs.

The animals barely sighed as their master began sobbing. He held tight to the pillow—Frank’s pillow—and sobbed brokenly. He felt so worthless…

What had he been thinking letting himself waste time and money—wasting years—getting fucked up and ruining his life? His parents loved him so much and he repaid them with reckless behavior…

Who could love something like that? Something so…worthless. So troublesome…

Through his sobs and shaking breaths, Gerard forced his mind to push past the painful feelings. There was coke and dark living rooms and shady parties…what else?

The more he pushed, the harder his mind fought against him. He began to feel woozy and nauseous and every part of him told him to stop pushing, but he knew he was on to something. It was like a muscle he was working out…it screamed in pain because that was where his repression began.

It all began with drugs…and where did it end?

The easy answer was addiction and crack-whoredom…but that wasn’t right.

If that were the case, why wouldn’t he remember getting clean? Wouldn’t that be a celebratory time? And if he had fallen in that far, there was no way he came out on his own…and he knew Frank wasn’t there in that part of his life.

Gerard squeezed his eyes shut and thought hard…

_“Who is that guy? He looks kinda strange…”_ The words echoed in his memory. His own voice, a little shaky and echoey in the dingy apartment. _“Mick, who is that guy?”_

_“Him? Nah, don’ worry ‘bout him. I deal t’im, too, man.”_

Gerard buried his face deeper into the pillow until it was hard to breathe. What was there? What man? Who was Mick?...

Who was Mick… A dealer?

He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered softly, the last of his tears leaking out before he fell asleep.

( ) ( ) ( )

_”Who is that guy? He looks kinda strange…” Gerard looked over his shoulder at the man in the suit jacket who leaned against the wall behind them. He looked kind of like a cop or something with his dark, reflective sunglasses. Who the hell wore sunglasses inside, at night, in a dingy ass apartment with stained carpets, stained walls, and stained furniture? “Mick, who is that guy?” Gerard pressed when the man sitting in the recliner across from his seat on the couch didn’t answer._

_Between them was a glass-top coffee tables and many, many little bags of precious white powder._

_“Him?” Mick asked, glancing up from the money he was sorting in his hands. His eyes were barely visible under the off-center brim of his designer, white cap. “Nah, don’ worry ‘bout him. I deal t’im, too, man.”_

_“Oh,” Gerard mumbled, glancing over his shoulder again at the man leaning against the wall… The man with his well-trimmed beard and mustache. He looked like a cop…or a model who posed as a cop… “I’ve never seen him before…”_

_“Well, he a dealer, too, man. Don’ worry ‘bout it. I’m jus’ a middle-man. It’s how it works, man.” Mick glanced past Gerard at the silent man against the wall. “Yo, Gee, get down on this.”_

_Gerard felt his lips curl into a twisted little grin as Mick dumped out one of the little bags onto the table and started separating the powder into two separate piles with a blade._

_“I got some new shit—do a line with me. Fo’ free, man.”_

_Gerard didn’t let the chance pass him by. He’d come here to buy, but free samples were great, too._

_“Ah, sweet! Thanks, dude,” Gerard said, going to his knees in front of the coffee table. He took a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket and rolled it into a thin straw, watching Mick admirably as he used a real hundred dollar bill to snort one of the precious lines—like a real gangster. He was so fucking cool!_

_But as soon as Gerard lowered his head and got ready to breathe, someone grabbed him from behind and slammed his head down hard onto the table. Not hard enough for the glass to crack, but hard enough that Gerard was almost instantly in tears from the pain._

_“Mick?” He cried, right before he was pulled up and thrown back against the couch which cracked miserably. “Mick!” Gerard kept screaming the name of the only friend he had, but Mick didn’t help. The one glance Gerard got of him before he was drug kicking and thrashing out the apartment’s back door, Mick was just ducking his head down and finishing the last of his lines._

_Behind the apartment, Gerard was repeatedly punched in the face, stomach, nuts—everything—until he finally fell to the ground in a crumpled, screaming ball on the filthy concrete._

_“Get the fuck up,” the man spat. Gerard looked up and saw the light from the streetlamps gleam off the lenses of the man’s sunglasses._

_It looked like there was fire in his eyes…He looked like a man who was on fire…_

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard woke up vomiting. He’d jolted up in the bed and immediately threw up over the edge onto the floor. After, he just kept retching and gagging, trying to breathe, trying to sob and cry and scream all at the same time. His face was soaked with drool and tears, just upon waking and they weren’t the only traces of the horror that had been replayed in his mind. 

Gerard’s screams were all stuck in his throat, and he lost his ability to even whimper when his eyes lit upon his forearms which were soaked with blood. He began to rub and swat at the blood, afraid that he was still in a nightmare, afraid that it was his blood—and fearful that it wasn’t all at the same time.

“Frank!” He finally managed to scream. It was the first thing that came to his mind. He was frightened—he was so fucking terrified. “Frank! _Frank!_ ”

The dogs began barking loudly and Gerard immediately heard someone running toward the bedroom.

“Gerard? What’s wrong?” Frank asked before he even made it into the room. “Baby? What’s wrong?—What happened?”

“Don’t call me that!” Gerard screamed, covering his face with his bloody hands before flinging them away when the wet, sticky liquid was smeared across his face. “God, _please! Please,_ don’t call me that!”

“Gerard?” Frank asked, voice shaking as he crept into the room. “What happened to your arms? Sweetheart?” Frank came closer to the bed, reaching out a hand slowly the way one might do when approaching a fearful animal. 

“Frankie,” was all Gerard could sob, reaching out one of his bloody forearms and trying to grab for Frank’s hand. 

He wanted to be afraid of Frank. He wanted to look upon him with fear and reverence, but all he could feel was terror on its own and he wanted to be safe. He wanted Frank to hold him and keep him safe.

“Sweetie—Honey, what happened to your arms? Let’s go to the bathroom—let’s clean it off. We’ll clean it off—it’ll be okay!” Gerard tangled his fingers with Frank’s as soon as he could reach them and crawled away from the stained, soaked bed sheets…wet with blood, soaked with sweat…reeking of piss.

“Frankie,” Gerard sobbed again, trying to pull Frank closer as Frank tried to pull him out of the bed. 

“Come on, Sweetheart,” Frank said, looking terrified. “I’ll just wash your arms. I won’t hurt you, Honey. I won’t touch you—I won’t hurt you.”

Gerard choked and started gagging again when images of horrible cruelties played behind his eyes. Horrors Frank _knew_ about. 

“Mom…” Gerard whimpered, holding tight to Frank’s hand and sliding slowly out from the sheets that stuck to his body and clothes. “Mom,” he sobbed, shaking violently as Frank finally helped him onto his feet.

“I’ll call her, Sweetie. I’ll call her right after I get your arms clean, Honey, okay? I’ll call her—I’ll call Mikey. They’re here—they’re here for you. Come on, just come here…” Frank was crying quietly as he slowly moved them both towards the bathroom. 

“Mom,” Gerard whimpered again, wanting protection from every direction. Frank to save his body, his mother to save his soul…

“I’ll call her, Honey,” Frank said, sitting Gerard down on the edge of the tub in the bathroom, flipping on the lights quickly and wasting no time grabbing a cloth off of the counter. “Just be still—just try to calm down. I’ll clean you up; you’ll feel better. You’ll be okay.”

Gerard closed his eyes tightly and began to weep brokenly. He would _not_ be okay. He could _never_ be okay!

“Momma,” Gerard cried, wincing as Frank began to dab at the skin of his left forearm with the warm, soaking wet rag. “Momma? Frankie?” Gerard whimpered, fractions of thoughts as he watched the blood soak the rag and drip off of his arm onto the floor. Scratches lined both of his upper arms as if he’d scratched himself viciously while holding himself in a desperate, protective hug.

“See, Honey, they’re just scratches,” Frank said, crying and leaning down to kiss one of the angriest of the wounds. Gerard wanted to pull away, but couldn’t. He needed the touch. He needed something… “I’ll call your mom, okay? She’ll be here, and I’ll wait here with you and get you cleaned up. And…and don’t worry about the bedroom—I’ll clean it. You don’t have to worry. I’m here—I’ll take care of you.”

Gerard felt that if his arms weren’t still leaking blood, he’d pull Frank into a hug, just to feel that much more secure…but he couldn’t.

“Frankie…” It was all Gerard could muster as Frank stood up from the bathroom floor where he’d been kneeling and stumbled into the bedroom where he hurriedly started pounding numbers into his phone.

“Hey,” Frank said quickly. “Um—Gerard is…Gerard, um…” Gerard closed his eyes tightly as he heard Frank break down in the next room. “He’s…um, he’s asking for you. Um…” Every other word was disrupted with sobs and choked back cries. “H-he wants you. He’s calling for you, and…he’s hurt and…” Frank was quiet for a moment and Gerard heard him drop down onto their filthy bed, not even showing the least bit of concern for the sweat, piss, and blood that soaked the sheets. “We’re here at the house, he…h-he just woke up crying and he’s really sick and…He scratched himself all up.” Frank sobbed hard and it was the only sound that filled the townhouse apart from the quiet mumbles from the phone and the clicking of their dogs’ toenails on the floors. “Okay,” Frank whimpered. “I’m gonna…I-I’ll clean up th-the mess and, um…maybe talk to him. I don’t—I don’t want to hurt him! I l-love him! I don’t want to hurt him anymore…” 

Frank cried, quietly at first, but after he hung up the phone his tears became loud and hysteric. Gerard wanted to console him, but his body couldn’t move from the edge of the tub. He was frozen. Petrified and…cold. 

He was really cold. 

“F-Frank?” He called softly. 

The sobs in the next room stopped briefly, returned for more than a minute, and were then repressed to heavy, determined breaths as Frank tried to pull himself together.

“I’m coming, Sweetheart,” Frank managed to murmur. “I’m just…I’ll put the sheets in the washer and…I’m gonna clean up the floor. Your mom will be here real soon—she will. She said she’d call Mikey. Your dad might come, but…I don’t know…” 

Gerard trembled slightly as he heard Frank start pulling the sheets off the bed. 

“Do you want fresh clothes, Honey?” Frank asked, letting the sheets drop to the floor and creeping back towards the bathroom door.

Gerard looked down at the clothes he’d fallen asleep in. They were clinging to him from the sweat, and the pants he wore were soaked through and reeking with piss.

Slowly, he nodded. 

“O-okay,” Frank said, biting back more tears. “I-I’ll grab you an outfit and you can change—just give me your dirty clothes when you’re done and I’ll put in with the sheets, okay?”

Gerard just stared, but Frank didn’t hesitate. He gathered up an outfit and left them on the clean bathroom counter and closed the door behind him. 

As he stripped off his soaked, stinking clothes, Gerard heard Frank curse at the dogs who must have crept a little too close to the mess of vomit on the floor. Suddenly, the smells all became too much and Gerard didn’t give it a second thought before slamming on the shower and getting underneath the water.

It was freezing, he couldn’t bring himself to pull the curtain closed or even grab for a washcloth. He hated the filth he felt on his skin…in his body. He poured shampoo into his palm until the white substance was pouring out over the cup of his hand, but before he could reach his head with it he started gagging again—the white slime reminding him too much of other things. 

Trying to block out images-- _tables, beatings, blood, toys…_ \--he started scrubbing at his hair, shampoo running down his face into his eyes and leaving a bitter, sour taste in his mouth. 

“Honey, can I…can I get your clothes?” Frank asked, knocking softly on the door. 

Gerard made a noise that was neither positive nor negative, but Frank crept into the room anyway, shielding his eyes in the direction of the slower and just grabbing up the clump of clothes on the floor. Gerard watched him carefully, trying to blink the sting out of his eyes as he started rubbing his body down with their only bar of beige-colored soap.

He didn’t stop scrubbing until there was thick film of residue on his skin…a _clean_ residue. Not a film of sweat or blood or cum…

He’d been fifteen. A man had cum on his face and on his hands and stomach… He’d been fifteen when a man had forced him to give handjobs and threatened to do even more…

Gerard scrubbed harder and tried to stop crying. 

He’d been fifteen when he’d been sold…raped…hurt…beat…ruined.

The bar of soap disappeared under the stream of water that was scalding hot and filling the bathroom with steam in a mist so thick that it would surely begin to rot the walls. 

Gerard dragged his nails across his skin, scraping off the soap and trying to take the memories and pain away with it. Hardly anything came off…

“Momma,” Gerard whimpered, lowering himself to floor of the bathtub under a flow of water that was turning back to icy cold as the hot water ran out.

“Gerard, Sweetheart?” Frank asked, knocking softly on the door. “Are you okay? C-Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Gerard cried, burying his face in his knees, wanting to feel ashamed and embarrassed as Frank came him, but unable. He was too scared to feel humiliated. He didn’t care if he looked weak or if someone was seeing him naked—both in body and in spirit—he just wanted taken care of.

“Oh, Honey,” Frank said, coming quickly over to the shower as the door swung open. The warm air and the mist dissipated rapidly into the hallway. 

The cold air washed over him, lashing him like belts and whips, causing him to shudder as he held himself tightly in his secure, protective ball. 

“Here, it’s okay,” Frank said, throwing a towel quickly around Gerard’s shoulders as he shook on the floor of the tub. Frank knelt down beside him, the knees of his jeans becoming soaked with the water on the floor. “Your mom is here—she’s in the living room now. Mikey’s still on his way.”

“Momma,” Gerard whimpered, nuzzling the towel that was laid across his shoulders. 

“Do you want help getting dressed?” Frank asked softly. Gerard groaned and hid his face in the soft, fluffy fabric of his towel. “Do you…want dressed?” Frank sounded worried, but Gerard couldn’t find it in him to stand up. “I’ll get more towels,” he whispered, getting to his feet and grabbing over four towels out of the cabinet. “Here, Honey. I don’t want you to get cold…” Frank draped the towels over him, but it didn’t stop his shaking. Not even when Frank began using one of the towels to ruffle and dry Gerard’s hair.

“Momma,” Gerard whimpered again once his shaking slowed to a slight tremble that he didn’t think would ever leave him. 

“Are you sure you don’t want dressed, Sweetheart?” Frank asked anxiously, looking at the pile of clean clothes on the counter. “I’ll help you, Honey, but I won’t hurt you. I won’t touch you…like that or anything.”

Gerard shuddered and tried to shake the words away. He didn’t want to think about it—he didn’t want reminded. 

“Momma,” he whimpered again, feeling like a child. Feeling like a fifteen-year-old boy strapped to a table, tortured, and killed…

( ) ( ) ( )

Donna found her son sitting in a pile of soaked towels on the floor of a plastic tub. He’d been returned to her years before…but he’d never been the same as before he left. The look in his eyes when she approached him there, hidden in the towels but completely and utterly exposed, revealed the son she’d lost years before. He needed her. He’d cried for her when he’d never cried for her before…

Even as a child, he’d been reluctant to call for anyone. When he’d come back, all he ever wanted was Frank. Now, Frank seemed to be an afterthought, and all Gerard wanted in the world was his mother.

“Hi, Baby,” she said quietly, not understanding why her child began shaking again shifted further into the towels. “Are you okay, Honey?”

Gerard didn’t say anything. He just sat there and cried.

Soon, Mikey came. Donna could hear him talking to his father in the living room, discussing whether or not it was safe to go further inside. She’d asked that her husband stay back, knowing how Gerard used to be around him. How Gerard used to fear him and nearly hate him… She didn’t want Gerard to be afraid.

“Honey…what happened?”

“I remember,” Gerard whispered, turning to Frank and wrapping scratched-up arms around his the other man’s shoulders. “I remember everything…” He sobbed into Frank’s shoulder as Frank held him close, whispering gentle, loving words.

“Mom? Is it…safe?” Mikey’s voice came suddenly from the bathroom doorway. 

It broke Donna’s heart when she saw her oldest son shudder just at the sound his younger brother’s voice.

“Gerard, it’s okay,” Frank whisper, smoothing back his lover’s hair. “It’s Mikey. You know Mikey…he won’t hurt you.”

“Momma…” It seemed to be the only word Gerard knew how to say.

( ) ( ) ( )

“I was…I am…” Gerard mumbled. He was sitting on the couch beside Frank, staring at the floor and trying to say something. He’d been trying for three hours, not able to say more than two words before freezing and trying again. “I…I was…”

“Raped,” Frank said, unable to take the stammering anymore. Frank closed his eyes tightly and waited for Gerard’s response. Gerard just breathed shakily and Frank glanced up in time to see Gerard sweep his gaze over the townhouse ceiling as if seeing it for the first time.

“Living a lie,” Gerard mumbled, his gaze fixing on the light bulb overhead.

“Honey, I love you,” Frank said, holding his head in his hands and feeling like he might break down again. 

“I love…I…I love…” Gerard kept stumbling over the words. He never said I love you in return. He couldn’t remember how to speak…but it was only the day after his memory had returned. 

“Don’t force yourself, Gerard. I know it’s hard right now.”

“I’m…I…Frank?” Suddenly, Gerard turned to look at him and Frank had to turn his face away from the gaze. The look in Gerard’s eyes was so piercing.

“Yeah, Honey?”

“I…Frank, I…Frank…” Frank and Donna had decided that if Gerard didn’t get better after a week they were going to place him in a hospital. There was no way he could take care of himself, and Frank couldn’t take time off work forever… 

“Yes, Gerard?” Frank pressed, his patience never faltering.

“I…I w—…note…”

“What?” Frank asked softly.

“Nn…I want…I…my…my…note…”

“Your notebook?” Frank asked. Gerard, staring at a spot on the floor, nodded slowly.

Frank got up quickly and retrieved every one of Gerard’s notebooks that he could find in the townhouse. Even the ones Gerard thought he had hidden.

“I…I…” Frank set the stack of books in Gerard’s lap and watched as his boyfriend started staring at them. “Remember…”

“I know,” Frank said.

“Nn…I…I remember.”

“I know,” Frank repeated.

“Nn…I remember Frank.” Frank watched in shock as Gerard heedlessly threw most of his notebooks onto the floor, holding securely only to one. The dogs barked when the books crashed on the floor, but Gerard didn’t react. “Frank…I…I am…I…”

Gerard stared at the book and started flipping through pages until he found the right one and then pushed the book into Frank’s lap.

“Nn…I…I wrote…I…loved…” Gerard closed his eyes slowly and, briefly, looked at peace. Frank looked down at the page and saw one of Gerard’s old songs scrawled across the yellowing paper. It was a song about him. “I…Frank…I…”

“I love you, Gerard,” Frank said softly, slowly closing the book and sliding it back onto Gerard’s lap. 

“I…remembered Frank…and I…I…and I…I…” Over and over and over…

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard rolled over in bed slowly, alone but not frightened. Frank was at work…It was noon. Mikey would be over at two when his shift at work ended…

He stared at himself in the mirror on his dresser and frowned. He hated who he saw there.

The phone on the nightstand beside him rang and Gerard answered silently.

“Honey, it’s noon…are you awake?”

“I am,” Gerard said before sniffing back the last breaths of sleep. “I…I had a dream that…that I had superpowers and I could…I could fly…” It wasn’t true, but he hated telling Frank that he had nightmares. 

“Don’t forget that I got some…some real bacon for you if you want to fry it for lunch or make a burger…there’s some leftover hamburger in the fridge.”

“I…I…Frank?”

“Yeah?” Frank asked, sighing quietly. 

“I feel strange…”

“You’re just tired,” Frank murmured. “Mikey will be there soon. If you want him to get something, just call him.”

“I…” Gerard paused, thinking about things he wanted to say, but didn’t know how. “I…” _I love you. I love you_ so _much, Frank._ “I…I…” Nothing else would come out, but he tried so hard. “Frank…”

“Yeah?” Frank asked softly. 

“I…” _I love you, Frank. I worship you…I want you to come home and sit with me…_ “I…I had a dream that…that I had superpowers…I could…I could fly…”

“Yeah?” Frank asked, pretending to sound interested even though he was now crying.

“I…I w—…I w—…I…”

“Gerard, I’ve gotta get back to work. Mikey will be over soon.”

“I…” Gerard closed his eyes tightly and tried to force the words out. He felt paralyzed. “I w—…Frankie?” Gerard began breathing heavily, pained so much by not being able to plead for what he needed.

“Gerard, I have to go. Mikey will be there soon. I love you.”

“I…” _I want you to come home._ Gerard started to cry and lowered the phone from his ear. 

( ) ( ) ( )

“I…I—I…” Gerard closed his eyes tightly, fighting to get the words out. “I—I… _hold me,_ ” he finally sighed. Frank didn’t hold him. Frank just sat and stared. Gerard let his head fall back against the couch and moaned. 

He was hurting so badly—he needed so badly to be held and helped, but no one understood.

“I…I…” He started crying and Frank turned away.

“Gerard, we…we talked before about…the hospital.” 

Gerard sobbed and shook his head. 

No, he didn’t want to go there! He wanted Frank. He wanted Frank to understand that he didn’t need monitored—he didn’t need Mikey watching him every day. He needed Frank, he needed held, he wanted help…He wanted Frank to help like he had before.

“I…I w—…I…” He couldn’t form requests. Every time he tried to ask, he felt a sharp pain shoot through his stomach. For days Frank pleaded with him to know that those days were over, that the slavery had ended—that he could ask for anything and everything he wanted. Gerard understood that, but the training was all there, fresh in his mind. He couldn’t make requests…

“I think it’s best for you. Dr. Schuster said she doesn’t know what to do to help you, and they have doctors that can…”

“I…I don’t…I…Frank?”

“Yeah?” Frank asked with a sigh.

“I don’t…doctor…I…Frank…I love…”

“I love you, too,” Frank whispered. 

“I…I…”

“It’ll be good for you,” Frank said. “They can help and…I can come visit. I can visit every day.”

_But you won’t,_ Gerard thought, crying quietly. _You won’t. You think I’m gone…_

“I…here,” Gerard cried. “I’m here.” 

Frank sighed, not understanding.

“It’ll help you.” 

Gerard sobbed.

“I…”

“I’m not doing this to hurt you…”

“I w—…s-st…s…” He started breathing heavily, desperate to get the words out. Desperate to find a voice. He had to. Frank was leaving—Frank was going to lock him away in a hospital like an owner leaves an unwanted dog at a shelter. He needed a voice—any voice. “I…I…”

“Gerard, please…Don’t torture yourself….”

“I…I…I w—…” Gerard choked and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Gerard…it’s over.”

“I…I want…I want you to stay,” Gerard cried. “I want you to stay with me—I don’t want to be alone! I don’t want to be alone! Don’t put me some place where I’m all alone! I’m here! Please! I’m here! I’m not gone—I’m not dead; I’m here! Don’t leave me all alone! I’ll die—I have nothing to live for, I’ll die!”

“Gerard?”

“You can’t do this! It’s not over! It’s been seven damned days! You can’t _tell me_ you waited two years to give up on me in seven days…”

“I didn’t mean us, Honey,” Frank said quickly, placing a long-missed hand on Gerard’s shoulder. Gerard felt as though the contact chilled him to the bone. “We’re not…No—Gerard, _no._ I’ve given my life to you—I’m not going to go when you need me the most…I want to be here for you.”

“You…” Gerard couldn’t put into words that he didn’t believe him. 

“If you talk to me, I can help you,” Frank whispered. “Please…You know I won’t hurt you for what you say.”

“I…” Gerard couldn’t put it to words, that he wasn’t afraid of pain, he was just lost in his own mind. When he thought it took seconds to answer, it took minutes. Sometimes hours. “I’m…I…”

“ _Please,_ ” Frank pleaded. “You were just talking—please, just come back. Just come back—talk to me. I’ve been here from the start, I… Where’d I go wrong? Huh? Tell me what I did—tell me why you can’t talk to me. I’ll fix this. I’ll fix anything you need me to—Gerard, come on… You were just talking.”

“I’m…lost.” Gerard stared at the ceiling and then chanced a glance at Frank. “I…try…the words get lost. I miss…I miss you.”

“You know I gotta work,” Frank mumbled.

“I don’t mean…I don’t…”

“Just say it, Gerard. Come on. It’s me. I understand…I won’t get mad. Don’t be afraid.”

“At home…you won’t hold me…or touch me. I miss you. I’m…I…I’m so lonely.”

“I didn’t think you would want me to…”

“Love me again…”

“Gerard, I do love you. I love you a lot—more than anything.”

“No,” Gerard mumbled. Frank stopped loving him the morning after he remembered…because when the memory came back, a lot more came with it.

“Gerard, I fuckin’ love you more than life. I just want to get you help—see a therapist. Look for a new one—got to the hospital—I don’t know what to do. You need more than just me.”

“I…I want to see him.”

“What?” Frank asked, voice cracking.

“He’s in jail…I want to see him…and…I…I…I w—…I…and…look…make…and make…” _I want to see him,_ Gerard thought, anger brewing in his guts that he didn’t want Frank to see. _I want to make him look at me and know that I’m the reason he’s in there. I want that mother fucker to look me in the face and be fucking_ sorry! “I…face…I…I…fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really sure how I feel about this chapter, but I can promise you that Gerard will not remain in this broken, stammering state for the remainder of the fic. Right now, he's just in shock...understandably, right? Hopefully it won't take too long to write the next bit.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

Gerard stared at his computer screen, fuming and feeling sick to his stomach as he stared at the photo of one of the most disgusting, filthy men in the world. He heard the front door of the apartment open, followed by the shrill yapping of the two stupid dogs, and quickly closed the browser window so Frank wouldn’t see what he was doing.

“Gerard? I’m home!” 

Gerard glared at the screen of his laptop and reopened the browser. 

“Are you home?” Frank called, heading towards the bedroom where Gerard laid on the bed, Googling art supplies when he really just wanted to go back to staring at his former master…

“Yeah,” Gerard mumbled, just as Frank appeared in the doorway. 

“Art supplies?” Frank asked, coming over to the bed and leaning down to kiss Gerard on the cheek. Gerard grumbled but didn’t answer. “Okay…” Frank backed off and proceeded to strip off his work shirt and replace it with a discarded concert T-shirt that had been lying on the floor. 

“I’ve decided,” Gerard said, flipping through pages and pages of images of paint tubes.

“…Oh,” Frank mumbled.

Everyone had been trying to convince him not to go see the man who’d destroyed his life. He even quit going to his therapist because all she did was tell him he was moving backwards. 

He had a _right_ to confront the asshole who had done this to him. And he failed to see how confronting his attacker would set him back. Wasn’t that what he was supposed to do? Wasn’t that what all the rape victims were told to do in the cop shows? Nothing—and Gerard meant _nothing_ \--was going to stop him from looking that man in the eye and laughing because now that motherfucker was the one behind bars, taking it in the ass against his will.

It was that man’s turn to be a slave, and Gerard wanted to see him suffering.

“I don’t see why you’re all against it. He’s in Hell and I want to see him burning.”

“We just…don’t want you to get hurt anymore. You’ve been through enough…”

“It’s over!” Gerard snapped. “I want to see him behind bars! Why are you so against it?”

Frank whimpered quietly and left the bedroom without answering. Gerard scowled at his turned back and went back to a photo of David H. Miles. He’d done so much research on this man…he almost felt like he knew him for real.

Knew…all of him.

Of course, he’d always known the man’s personal, home life. Apart from keeping three exclusively male slaves captive in his home, David Miles made a fortune for himself as the financial manager of multiple industrial companies. He drove a Mercedes, owned two vintage Cadillacs, and had an antique motorcycle on display in his skyscraper office. Apparently he suffered abuse at the hands of his drunken mother and that turned him into a sick, raping murderer.

In total, he’d owned over eight slaves over the course of eleven years, and paid over three million dollars combined for them all. Of the eight, he personally murdered four. His first, second, and third slaves—three whom came long before Gerard’s time. And then there had been Joshua, his eighth slave. 

An in-depth report discussed David’s patterns of attraction. The first slave had been offered as a business perk from a man he refused to name. He had been “well-used” at the time and sold for less than three grand. David killed him after hurting him so badly that he refused to stop crying. He then bought his second whore secondhand from the same auction where his new business partner bought his slaves. At the time, he could only afford to feed himself and his slave. So when he got tired of the same old routine, he murdered the slave and bought a third one. 

This one bit him, so he strangled him and bashed his head in until he died. 

Then he finally saved up enough money to buy what he’d really wanted—a virgin. He bought Marcus…the most loving man in the entire world. Gerard had almost fallen in love with him.

Marcus doted on David. It was all he wanted in the world to please David, and without much training Marcus rarely needed punished.

Gerard would have fallen in love with Marcus had his master not gotten in the way. Marcus taught him the best ways to avoid being punished, the easiest ways to be praised, and even ways to get out of being punished if he’d made a mistake.

He’d researched Marcus as much as he could, but only found three photos and two articles about him. One from when he disappeared and one from when he was returned alive. The article didn’t say where he lived or who he lived with…all it said was that Marcus King had disappeared from Central Park on his fourteenth birthday while his parents had turned their backs to tend to their one-year-old who’d thrown up in her stroller. 

Gerard kind of found himself missing Marcus. He’d been the closest thing to a friend that he’d had in those eight years. 

Adam was a different story. Gerard hated Adam and hoped that he never had to see him again—not in a photo or a video.

“Gerard, I…I worry, you know?” Frank said, returning to the room. He was holding Bear in his arms protectively, trying to get affection from the animals since Gerard’s affection wasn’t so cheap anymore.

“That I’ll leave you for a pen pal in prison?” Gerard snapped. “Please…” Frank whimpered again and set Bear down on the floor.

“Gerard, please talk to me!” Frank cried. “You’ve shut me out—you ignore me 24/7…”

“I do not,” Gerard groaned. “Quit being dramatic. I went back to working. Forgive me if I’m tired after working all day and don’t want to talk.”

“Even on weekends, Gerard,” Frank whimpered. “I…I’m really starting to feel that you don’t want me around anymore.”

“Well I don’t when all you do is tell me I’m making mistakes and that everything I’m doing is wrong!” Gerard barked. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even be in this mess anyway!—You promised me you’d leave me alone, and you broke that promise. Is it really so hard to believe that I just don’t want to spill my guts to a liar like you?”

He said it to hurt him. He _meant_ it to hurt. When Frank lowered his head and cried, Gerard felt relieved.

_He_ was in control. If Frank was crying, then Gerard had all the power…

( ) ( ) ( )

Bob was surprised when Gerard called him and asked him if he wanted to get the band back together. He said he’d gotten his shit together and that he was ready to sing, said he had some more lyrics and some better songs, and promised that his trouble with Frank was over.

Bob guessed that meant they were fucking again, but he didn’t really bother himself with the details. He just agreed to meet up with the rest of the band members and try to make music again.

He’d really been surprised when Gerard showed up to practice without a hint of his former fear and reluctance. Gerard was talking and excited. He bounded around their practice area, giving quips of unneeded, unqualified advice, and he just wouldn’t shut _up._

It was Frank now who had gone quiet. He just stood still and played his guitar…cringing whenever his boyfriend came near.

Instinctively, Bob looked the young man over. He was searching for bruises or any other indication that Gerard had gone from a somewhat loving boyfriend to a violent abuser. All of the skin that was visible of Frank’s face appeared unblemished, but there was a mark on his wrist that he was trying to cover with his long sleeves that kept catching Bob’s eye. 

“You…okay?” Bob asked during their second break. Gerard had run off after Mikey who said he was going to walk down the street to the gas station for some coffee, and Bob saw no better opportunity to strike.

“Yeah, why?” Frank asked, too quickly.

“Well, it’s just weird to me that Gerard’s the one with all the energy and now you’re the one who’s shaking the whole time you’re trying to play.”

“I don’t feel good today,” Frank answered, looking at his guitar and not at Bob. “I think I’m catching a cold. I’m tired, that’s all.”

“So I guess you and Gerard are doing well again?” Bob meant it as a genuine inquiry. He wasn’t fishing to hurt feelings or make his bandmate uncomfortable. Frank didn’t see it that way.

“God, it’s obvious we’re not getting along—you don’t have to be such an ass about it!” Frank passed Bob one of the darkest looks he’d seen and stormed away from his mic where he’d been standing. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” Ray asked, adopting a teacher-like tone of voice so he could break up the argument.

“Somethin’s up,” Bob muttered, tossing his hand dismissively in Frank’s direction. “He doesn’t want me in it, and I don’t want in it. I just thought I’d ask—because that’s what friends fuckin’ do.”

Frank spat out something, but Bob wasn’t listening. Frank and Gerard were perfect for each other. They both lived in their own little self-absorbed worlds.

“Bob, come on,” Ray said quietly. “Frank, what happened? What’s going on with you and Gerard? You haven’t really talked to me in over two weeks and now you’re just really distant.”

“Come on, Gerard’s going through a lot,” Frank muttered. “I’m just trying to be there for him, and it’s a little bit exhausting, okay? Everything’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“And that bruise up your wrist?” Bob asked, not sure if it were concern or spite that let the words loose.

“Bruise?” Ray asked.

“What?” Frank asked, eyes taking on the expression of a cornered animal. “This?” He lifted his sleeve, but only slightly, and briefly—as quickly as possible before lowering it back into place. “I had to give Pig and Bear baths. It’s not easy when they squirm everywhere and I hit my wrist on the corner of the tub.”

“Okay,” Ray said. “I mean—Yeah, dog’s will do that.”

Frank was lying. Ray knew it, but there wasn’t much he could say. When Gerard and Mikey returned from their trip to the store, Mikey looked exhausted and Gerard looked enraged. He passed one look to Frank and the man shrunk under his gaze.

Ray remembered that look. It was a look of pure hatred.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank looked at Gerard carefully as he fixed dinner in their small kitchen. Gerard had been agitated for days, and Frank felt like he was living on egg-shells. He wanted to say something about it, but all he could think about was Gerard living this way under the terrifying rein of his master for all those years…

When the food was done cooking in the pan, Frank set the table and served out the food with the same sort of attention he gave the dishes at the diner… He’d been working that job for years, and all he had to show for it was one promotion. The title of Junior Server, two steps below a management position…

“Food’s ready,” Frank whispered. Gerard came quickly into the kitchen from the living space and fell into his seat. 

“Looks good,” Gerard said softly. “Smells good, too.” He offered Frank a smile that only calmed the younger man’s nerves slightly. “Are you okay, Frankie?”

“Yes,” Frank said quickly, hoping he didn’t sound too off-put in fear of setting Gerard off. 

He may have told Ray that his wrist got bruised while bathing the dogs, but the truth was—obviously—that Gerard was slowly becoming violent.

So far he’d only lashed out twice, but that was enough to make Frank nervous. It started with a hard shove during an argument, and then led to a pull on the wrist.

It was just the beginning. Frank knew the signs—knew the cycle. But this was Gerard…he loved him. It wasn’t Gerard’s _fault._ If he hadn’t faced the cruelties in the houses of those evil men, he wouldn’t be lashing out now…

“Frank…I didn’t mean to hurt your arm.”

“I-I know,” Frank answered quickly, taking a bite of his food as fast as he could in fear that his lips would betray him and he’d say more.

Gerard didn’t add on to the conversation and began eating his dinner. They said nothing else until they mutually agreed that it was time for bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the calm before the storm, Be prepared for much action in chapter no. 6


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

The first time he slapped him across the face, everything just seemed to click into place. Gerard felt it, and Frank _really_ felt it. 

When Gerard heard the crack of his hand against Frank’s skin, he felt a swell of pride and a twinge of power. When Frank cried out—a soft, little whimper of fear and surprise—Gerard bit his lip against the intoxicating feeling of control. 

But when Frank started to cry, those feelings were replaced. 

Gerard felt horror and shame. Frank sank to the floor, covering his face with his hands and sobbing softly. Gerard knew it had nothing to do with the blow when Frank began weeping. Frank was weeping because his biggest fear was being confirmed. His boyfriend had left him and a monster had appeared in his place. 

“I’m…going out,” Gerard said, managing to keep his voice from shaking. If he showed his guilt, it would all be for nothing. He didn’t like the man he was becoming, but he couldn’t surrender to the weak, puny man at his feet.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard sat in his car in the parking lot of the penitentiary. He stared at the grey wall and thought “what would it take for me to end up in here?” The longer he sat alone, the more ashamed he felt.

He thought of Frank, his lover with soft words and gentle hands, sitting on the floor of their bedroom crying and clutching his cheek. Why had he struck him? Because he moved a photograph? Because he touched it while _cleaning?_ How much of a control freak could he really become?

Shaking away the thoughts that were too hard to face, Gerard got out of his car and approached the visitors’ entrance of the jail. He went through metal detectors and was patted down before he could even reach the reception desk where, with a shaking voice, he asked the officer on duty if he could meet with David Henry Miles. 

“Typically, we schedule visits at this precinct, Mr…?”

“Way,” Gerard answered, stuttering out his own name. “Gerard Way. I…I know that I didn’t call, but…”

“It’s not a problem,” the officer interjected. “We’ll see where he is and if he’s available. If he’s in the cafeteria or solitary, you’ll have to come by later, but otherwise there’s no problem.”

Gerard felt himself begin to shake as the officer called another man of uniform over to seek out Miles.

“Sir, are you alright?” The officer asked after the other man was on his way.

“Yes,” Gerard stammered. The officer eyed him suspiciously.

“Can I ask what your relationship is with the inmate?”

Gerard felt sick to his stomach and glanced over his shoulder at the metal detector and the door out.

“He…He’s in here because of me.” The officer kept scrutinizing him and Gerard felt like he was on the stage of the auction house once again. He hated it. He thought about the blow he’d delivered to Frank and felt sick when the thought made him feel better. “Um…He’s in for kidnapping and…murder and…” Gerard sniffed and looked over his shoulder once again. 

“The human trafficking case?” The officer said, nodding and putting Gerard out of his misery.

“Yeah… I’m not going to cause any trouble, I just want to…to get closure,” he said, quoting so many scenes in so many cop shows.

“Okay,” the officer said. “Visits are 60 minutes, and from now on if…if you decide to visit again, you need to fill out a booking order and book a visiting time.”

“I…I won’t visit again I just…”

“I understand,” the officer said. 

Just then the second officer returned and nodded, indicating that Miles was available. 

“Sir, would you prefer to meet with him in the visiting area for…the one with the glass?” Gerard stared at him in silence. “Where you talk through the phones? Otherwise you are in the same room at a table, but you cannot make physical contact.”

“The glass,” Gerard said, looking down at the floor. He came to see the man behind bars, not be inside of them with him.

“I understand, just follow Officer Carter and he’ll take you where you need to go.” Gerard mumbled a word of thanks and walked towards the other officer. The man tried to make small talk, but Gerard ignored him. He was shaking and scared out of his mind. He didn’t have any words to say to anyone except David H. Miles.

( ) ( ) ( )

When the man in the navy blue jumpsuit sat down across from him behind the glass, Gerard felt his stomach lurch. He started gagging and almost threw up on the precinct floor when he looked into the beautiful, cold eyes of his master.

The man picked up the phone on his side and said something, but Gerard didn’t move. He stared at the man—bald now, and much older—and shivered. The officer on the other side of the glass observing them pretended not to notice when Gerard began to hyperventilate. 

Miles tapped on the glass with his knuckles, earning a sharp reprimand from the officer behind him, but it woke Gerard from his stupor and, with a shaking hand, he picked up the phone.

“What are you doin’ here, Babe?” Miles said. Gerard started to cry when he heard his voice. It was a voice from his nightmares and his sweetest dreams. He feared that voice, trembled at the sound of it for years, but had learned to love it. 

Could a man really describe the feeling of being in love and completely devoted to a monster and the epitome of terror?

“Master,” Gerard choked down the line of short-cabled phone. 

“Babe, I asked what are you doin’ here…”

Gerard trembled and closed his eyes tightly. So many times he’d heard his master say sentences just like that before grabbing him, beating him, and raping him. Calling him harsh names and ripping down all of his emotional defenses.

“Babe?”

“I’m…I’m n-not y-your f-fucking b-babe,” Gerard stammered, looking David Miles in the eye and trying to force some sort of power and rage into them. All he felt was fear. When he was scared—when he really felt truly terrified, he fantasized about running into his master’s arms for protection. What did he have to yearn for now? Here he was, shaking in his master’s presence and not knowing who he wanted to protect him, or if he wanted protected at all. 

“Whatever, Gerard. What are you here for? To _mock_ me, you little tramp?”

“I’m not,” Gerard whimpered through the line, the insults hurting him. He wasn’t strong enough for this, but he didn’t want to crawl home with his tail between his legs to Frank who could only possibly say ‘I told you so.’

“Whatever. What do you want? To see me in here? To know I can’t get you? You trainer’s still out there, Babe. I make a call,” he whispered. “I make one call and he’ll find you.”

“No,” Gerard sobbed, losing all of the composure he’d tried to build. He started sobbing uncontrollably and the officer behind the glass took notice.

“Hey!” Gerard heard the man shout. “You quit with the harassment or you go into solitary.”

“Fine,” Miles hissed. “So, now you’ve got your closure. We done here?”

“Frank saved me from you,” Gerard mumbled.

“I thought something was strange about him. Started getting’ real paranoid. Was I really that bad to you? If it weren’t for me, you’d be a crackhead…probably dead. You on crack now? You look it.”

“I’m not,” Gerard whimpered. The man had a way of affecting him. This man knew him better than anyone else. In a way, this man had played the part of God and molded him into the man that he now was.

“I know you, Gerard. I know you really well, Babe. From your love of cheap wine to the weird, loyalty you get towards anyone who pets your head and says you’re pretty. You’re still with Frank. I bet you’re lovers—I bet you think he was there by mistake when he was really there to buy a slave. He bought your loyalty for what…five hundred dollars? It’s a scheme. You’re a whore—you’ll always be a whore.”

“Hey!” The officer snapped. “What did I tell you about harassment?”

“Mind your own business,” Miles snapped. The officer came towards him and ordered him to his feet, attempting to cut the visit short. “I got news for you, Babe,” Miles hissed. “You remember Marcus? Caught you two tryin’ to jack each other off in the middle of the night?” The officer tried to interject, almost moving to pull Miles away from the phone. “He’s out there, Baby. He’s livin’ with Adam. They’re together now, in a pretty little house they bought with some settlement money. They’re livin’ the high life, except Marcus is gettin’ some pretty cheap eye shadow.”

“Adam’s…hurting Marcus?” Gerard whimpered through his tears, wondering how his master remembered so many different things. 

“He visits, Babe. You know he loves me, just like you love me.” Miles hung up the phone and let the officer escort him out. 

Gerard sat on the stool, still holding the phone and crying quietly, trying to make sense of the weird feelings building in his head. 

“Mr. Way are you alright?” Gerard flinched, dropping the phone and falling off of the stool onto the floor when the officer appeared beside him. The man offered him a hand, but Gerard stared at it in fear and crawled backwards away from the foreign touch. “Sir?” Gerard got up from the floor and ran. He was surprised he avoided getting tackled by the guard by the doors as he made a break for the parking lot.

Gerard ran, almost smashed into his car as he fumbled with the keys, trying to fit the key into the door lock and sobbing hysterically when his hands shook too hard to allow it. In the end, the keys fell to the ground and Gerard’s body quickly followed.

He felt so broken, lying on the ground at the tries of his car sobbing. He wanted protected, but felt that there was no one who could—or _should._ He didn’t deserve any pity. He’d struck Frank when all Frank wanted was to help—all Frank had ever wanted was to help him.

“Sir? Sir!” Gerard wailed when two officers approached him where he lie. “Are you alright?” Gerard tried to roll away from the hands that reached for him, but he was pinned against his car. “Sir?”

Gerard couldn’t say anything. He could only watch as one officer picked his keys up off of the ground, and the other began pulling him to his feet against his will. Gerard tried to reach for his keys, but the other officer pulled them away.

It was then that Gerard truly began to panic.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank felt strange going to the prison to retrieve his spontaneously abusive boyfriend. The prison had called him to say that Gerard had collapsed in the parking lot and was too distraught to drive. He didn’t need hospitalized, but he had been put in a small room by himself in order for him to calm down.

“He was visiting David Miles, right?” Frank asked.

“We’re not at liberty to discuss that,” the officer said, guiding Frank to the office where Gerard had been placed. Frank felt numb when he saw Gerard sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. He felt bad for him, but his distrust and disappointment kept the feeling oppressed.

“Gerard?” Frank said.

“I’m fine to drive,” Gerard whimpered from the floor. “But he won’t give me my keys,” he sobbed. He reminded Frank of someone completely inebriated, but he was sober…

He could only imagine the awful things his kidnapper had said to him. As soon as he remembered what Gerard really was, Frank let his aversions fade and allowed his compassion to overcome him. He was responsible for this—he had to accept the responsibility.

“Gerard, let me drive you home. I’ll come get your car later, okay?”

Gerard stammered something incomprehensible and the officer at Frank’s side sighed. 

“Come on, Sweetheart,” Frank said, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand and pulling it gently. Slowly, Gerard got to his feet and took Frank in his arms. He murmured something about being sorry, and Frank mumbled back that it was fine.

But it wasn’t fine…it was only getting worse.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank took Gerard home and sat him down on their bed. His lover was sobbing and shaking, too terrified and shaken to speak or even try to form words. Sometimes he would stutter out a syllable or two, but never a full word. Frank prayed that this one reencounter wouldn’t cause Gerard to relapse. He didn’t know what he would do if Gerard fell back into that sad, stammering state once again. Frank was certain he could never put Gerard in a hospital, even if it was for his own good. The act would crush his boyfriend’s soul, and that wasn’t what he wanted.

He just wanted his lover to be happy.

“Sweetheart, what did he say to you? Hu?” Frank pried gently. He sat down at Gerard’s side and rubbed his back gently.

“Awf…Awf…Awful th-thi-things,” Gerard cried, covering his face with his hands. 

“He’s…He’s just mean, Gerard. Don’t let him hurt you.”

“M-My f-f-fr-friend is-is g-getting hu-hurt,” Gerard whimpered.

“Friend?” Frank asked. “Who?”

“M-Marcus,” Gerard sobbed, saying the name with so much sorrow that Frank could tell immediately that there was a history between the two men.

“Was he…another slave?”

“Yes,” Gerard whimpered. “Remember, I-I told you a-about the m-mean one? A-Adam?”

“Yeah,” Frank said, flashing back to many conversations he’d had with Gerard. Adam, he remembered, was the one who put Gerard’s head through a cupboard door…Gerard had then put Adam’s head through the medicine cabinet mirror.

“M-Master s-said M-Marcus is living wi-with A-A-Adam! Adam is _mean!_ ”

“He probably just said that to hurt you, honey. He knows you care about Marcus and that you don’t like Adam.”

“H-He said M-Marcus visits and th-that Adam gives him b-black e-eyes—I’m sorry I hit you. I…”

“It’s fine,” Frank interjected. “Sweetheart, I understand.”

“No!” Gerard cried. “I’m turning into him—I’m…I’m becoming him. He’s e-evil.”

“Sweetheart…”

“I…I can _feel_ him…I can feel him everywhere in this house.” Gerard whimpered and fell onto his side, wrapping his arms around his chest protectively.

“Honey, he can’t get you,” Frank said gently. “I promise.”

“He’s already got me,” Gerard sobbed. “Don’t you understand? He’s _here!_ He lives in my head! Every day…I wake up and I feel him in bed beside me. I roll over and it’s you and I feel _guilty._ I feel sick! He’s suffocating me—He’s here,” Gerard’s words started getting stuck in his throat, and his choked off syllables turned into hyperventilation. 

“Sweetheart,” Frank pressed, laying down at Gerard’s side and tugging on his shoulder, trying to get him to uncross his arms. “You don’t need to feel bad—I understand. I understand what he’s done.”

“No you don’t,” Gerard wept. “I can feel him in body—I…I remember what he feels like and…Oh, God.” Gerard moaned in pain and flinched away from Frank’s insistent touching and stroking. 

“What?” Frank asked softly, taking a risk and kissing Gerard’s tear-soaked cheek. His lover cried out and rolled away. “Gerard, what is it?”

His boyfriend held himself tighter and squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to block out the world and disappear. 

“Gerard, what’s wrong?”

“It’s…It’s like he’s…r-raping me now.”

“How?” Frank asked, sitting up and scooting closer so he could continue patting Gerard’s shoulder and comforting him.

“I just…I can feel him, okay? I know—it’s…” Gerard cried out and rolled away again, teetering over the edge of the bed. 

“What can I do?” Frank asked. “Tell me anything—I’ll do anything for you.”

“Get him o-out of me,” Gerard pleaded in a voice that knew his request was impossible. “Please, Frank—I’m tired, you know? I…I can feel him. Do you know what that’s like? Even…even wh-when you and me ar-are together, I s-sometimes th-think it’s him.”

“Honey, if you’d just go back to your therapist—”

“No!” Gerard cried, sitting up and burying his face in his hands. “I’m tired of reliving it! I’m _sick_ of it! I think they just like hearing it—Each new doctor. What if they’re getting off on it?” Gerard started sobbing and again and scratched at his scalp with his fingernails. “I’m sick of it—I’m sick of it. Frank, I sit on a couch and talk about all the ways he fucked me—and what he said and who was there. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I want it to be over. I want to start my life over—I…I don’t want to be his anymore.”

Frank understood then why he quit seeing his doctors. It was hard enough for Gerard to tell him what all had happened to him when he was at David Miles’ mercy, he couldn’t imagine how hard it must be to tell those same stories to a stranger. 

“I wish this hadn’t happened to me,” Gerard sobbed. “I really do.”

“I know that, Sweetheart,” Frank said lovingly. “We know you didn’t want this to happen.”

“B-but if it didn’t…I-I’d still be w-wasted. I-I’d probably b-be dead fr-from the d-drugs.”

Frank felt his heart swell with pity and he pulled his reluctant boyfriend into his arms. He didn’t want Gerard to think that his slavery somehow freed him from something. Frank wanted to have all the faith in the world that at some point in time, if he hadn’t been abducted, Gerard would have come to his senses and quit all of the drugs and poisonous habits on his own. There was no way he would willingly believe that the slavery—the abuse and horror—had in anyway changed Gerard’s life for the better.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard laid beside Frank in bed, continuously stroking Frank’s bruised cheek. He’d managed to calm himself down about an hour and a half after coming home from the prison, and let himself lay calmly in Frank’s arms until Frank asked to go to sleep.

“Baby?” Gerard whispered. Frank had fallen asleep hours ago, but Gerard couldn’t sleep. He just kept stroking his cheek. “Baby?” Gerard repeated.

Frank moaned softly, but didn’t wake up.

“Baby?” Gerard pressed.

“Hm?” Frank groaned, barely on the cusp of consciousness.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard murmured before leaning over to kiss Frank’s wounded cheek.

Frank only hummed, keeping his eyes closed and breathing deeply.

“Baby?”

“Mmm?”

“Does it still hurt?”

“Nnn,” Frank moaned. 

“I didn’t mean it,” Gerard whispered.

Frank hummed again.

“You’re beautiful…”

“Mm…”

“Can we make love?” It was the only true way to show his remorse, and prove Frank’s forgiveness and affections.

Frank groaned out a negative sound and rolled onto his other side, simultaneously breaking his boyfriend’s heart.

Gerard laid still and cried until morning, and Frank didn’t remember the exchange ever happening when he woke up.

( ) ( ) ( )

Mikey came to visit the townhouse after Gerard cancelled practice three times in a row. He found Frank making dinner while Gerard hid in the bedroom. No one seemed interested in talking.

“Gerard, I heard you went to see him.”

“He called me a tramp,” Gerard whimpered. Mikey hadn’t seen his brother so wounded since the day he’d arrived home. 

“He’s a dick,” MIkey mumbled. “Don’t let him hurt you anymore.” The last thing Mikey would say was ‘we told you so.’ He wanted Gerard to feel supported, not judged. “Gerard he’s taken so much from you, don’t let him have any more. You have _Frank_ now.”

“I hit him,” Gerard whimpered. “I hit Frank and…we haven’t really talked since.”

“Did you apologize?”

“Yeah—of course!” Gerard looked at Mikey accusingly, as if believing that his brother thought he was truly that heartless. “But…I mean, that doesn’t fix it. That doesn’t make it like it didn’t happen.”

“Frank understands,” Mikey said. “You’re going through a tough time.” Gerard lowered his eyes and Mikey realized that his brother wasn’t listening to reason. “You should…go back to seeing your therapist.”

“No,” Gerard muttered.

“Get a new one?”

“No! I’m not crazy! I don’t need a shrink!”

“Gerard, therapists aren’t for crazy people—drugs are for crazy people, psych wards—”

“Frank tried to put me in a psych ward. And so did you.” 

Mikey sighed and shook his head.

“You quit talking, okay? You couldn’t even form a sentence.”

“I don’t need a shrink. I’m fine on my own…”

“Mikey.” Mikey turned around to see Frank standing in the doorway eyeing him carefully. “Can you come here for a minute? I want to talk to you.”

“Sure,” Mikey said, willingly leaving the tense conversation.

“We decided he wasn’t going to see anymore therapists,” Frank said as soon as they reached the kitchen. “All they do is make him talk about the rape, and he’s moved past that now. For some reason, all of his doctors get fixated on the physical stuff and he…he’d rather talk about his emotions and they just won’t let him do that without _forcing_ him to relive these attacks. It’s worn him out, you know?”

Mikey listened when Frank spoke, because for the first time he was truly seeing all of the dedication Frank had for his brother. When he’d met Frank, he’d just been a teenager out on his own—in over his head. Now, he was taking responsibility and sticking with Gerard through every single hardship. It wasn’t just some odd obsession like Mikey had once believed. Frank wasn’t obsessed with Gerard, or convinced that he _needed_ to be with him in order to be happy. Frank just loved him. Loved him more than anything else and the world, and he made sure that that showed.

“And even if he did switch doctors, he’d have to go through it all again, just to get to the emotions! He’d have to start at square one—again! Childhood neglect, homosexuality, drug abuse, kidnapping—that horror! Being sold, hurt…finding _me._ Living with me and going home…Then his attempt to forget and my involvement in ruining that plan, and…then explaining why he’s still with me after I broke my promise and…”

“I know,” Mikey interjected. “I didn’t realize that they wouldn’t let him skip that…”

“He _could_ use more help, but…I don’t want him to get hurt anymore. I can’t stand it.”

“Maybe…he could meet with a specialist. You know, someone who knows about this sort of thing, and he can say what he’s already discussed and move on from there.”

“I don’t know,” Frank said, dishing the food he had made out onto two separate plates. “I think he just needs some time for his heart to rest.”

“He shouldn’t have seen that man,” Mikey whispered.

“He did what he had to do,” Frank muttered. “We won’t see if it helped or not for a while yet, but I think it gave him closure. He got to see that man locked up—they put him in solitary after Gerard left because he harassed him during the visit. I think that helped him…it had to.”

“I hope it did…but he’s not doing too well right now.”

“He’s…depressed. He’s still going to work, though. He’s trying to work through it on his own, and I’m supporting him. He’ll be okay.”

“I hope so,” Mike murmured.

“He will!” Frank snapped. “It’s time for us to eat dinner and I didn’t make enough for three. It’s time for you to go.” 

Mikey furrowed his brow when his friend ordered him out of his own brother’s house. He didn’t care if Frank had enough food or not; he wanted to stay and visit with Gerard.

“Frank, I’m not leaving,” Mikey said, keeping his voice calm but his eyes narrowed. “I’m visiting with Gerard. He’s not a kid—you can’t tell me to leave.”

“Fine,” Frank growled before calling Gerard into the kitchen for dinner. The man came in timidly, like a small child. “I put real bacon on your burger, Sweetheart,” Frank said, handing a full plate to Gerard who looked at Mikey sadly. “I know you like it.”

“Thanks,” Gerard mumbled sitting down at the table and keeping his eyes on Mikey. “Is Bob mad that I cancelled practice?”

“Nah,” Mikey lied. “He’s got some…family issues.” Mikey rarely felt compelled to lie, but he couldn’t see the benefit in telling his depressed brother that Bob was throwing a tantrum over the relapse.

“I feel really bad,” Gerard mumbled. “We can meet up on Saturday if everyone’s free…”

“I work Saturday,” Frank said quietly.

“Oh,” Gerard mumbled. “Well…Wednesday night then…”

“That sounds good,” Mikey answered, rubbing his brother’s shoulder in hopes of calming him down a little bit. After a few weeks of strength, it became apparent that Gerard still had a long way to go…

( ) ( ) ( )

While Frank was at work, Gerard began scouring through phonebooks and online phone number databases. He’d had to look-up Adam’s full name online, subsequently having to look at an image of the man’s hideous face, and was now searching for any number he could call or use to trace a home address.

He didn’t want to see Adam, but Adam would lead him to Marcus, and he was willing to do just about anything to hear from his friend again. 

Try as he might, however, finding Adam was proving itself to be impossible. All he wanted was to see Marcus…it shouldn’t have to be difficult. 

There were just too many Adam Bransons in the state of New York…

Gerard sighed and turned off his computer, deciding to flip through the phone book again and start dialing numbers. If he could figure out which Adam Branson was _his_ Adam Branson, he could narrow the phone number down to the region, provider, and possibly even the address. 

However, each Adam that answered their phones when he called didn’t have the right voice. Gerard knew that man’s voice, and he didn’t need to start asking the person on the other end of the line any questions to know whether or not it was him. He knew from the first “hello” that these men were not the one he needed.

He set his cell phone down beside him on the desk and sighed in discouragement. He’d tried looking up Marcus, but there weren’t any in the phonebook and he couldn’t find anything about his number or possible address online. It was as if he disappeared…and probably because Adam had him hidden.

It just wasn’t fair.

Gerard no less than crawled over to his bed and laid down, wrapping himself up in the blankets and sheets. It was more than depressing. He had one friend—one true friend—in the entire world, and it felt like everything was preventing them from being able to see each other again.

He wondered if Marcus would be happy to see him again, or if he’d hold on to some resentment towards him for breaking up their family and sending Master to jail…

After all, Marcus had doted on Master… It was possible that he wouldn’t be so happy about having it all taken away. Even Gerard hadn’t been relieved when Frank had purchased him and then turned him over to his family and the real world with all of its responsibilities and obligations.

Life with Master had been so easy…once he was home, he had to worry about pleasing his family, getting a high school degree, getting a job…

The stress had become so much that he’d even resorted to prostitution, just to get a sense of control and normalcy…and to cope with the guilt of distracting his brother and singlehandedly destroying his collegiate career.

Even now, years later—after forgetting the event for a short time—he was overwhelmed with guilt.

He couldn’t help but feel that it would have just been better if Frank had left him alone to die at his Master’s hand…

But he loved Frank. He couldn’t deny that or even attempt to convince himself that his world didn’t revolve around his lover. He didn’t know if it was because Frank had been his master for all intents and purposes for a short time, or if it was just Frank’s kindness that attracted him…no matter the reason, Frank was his only love.

Suddenly, there was a sharp knock on the front door and Gerard rolled over stiffly on the bed. He wondered if it were Mikey, but a weird feeling began to form in the pit of his stomach and he thought he might be sick.

Hadn’t his master said that his trainer wasn’t in jail?—Hadn’t he said that the man was on the loose and on-call. Didn’t Master say that one call from him and his trainer would come for him?

Gerard grabbed for his cell phone, prepared to call 911 at the slightest inclination…

Slowly, he got off of his bed and crept through the townhouse to his front door. He looked through the peephole in the door and was only slightly relieved when the man who was standing with his back to the door had no physical resemblance to his trainer at all. His trainer had dark hair…this man’s was a light brown.

Gerard kept the chain lock in place and cracked his front door open. 

“Hello?” He managed to keep his voice from cracking, but he held his cell phone tightly in his hand.

The man turned around and Gerard’s heart nearly quit beating in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away from the door, hoping that this was just another hallucination like he used to have after leaving Master.

It couldn’t be real.

Master didn’t know where he lived, so how could he have had Adam find him?


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7_

Adam stared at the front door of Gerard’s filthy little townhouse. He’d been watching him for a few days and knew that he was home and that his lover—Fred, or Phil, or something like that—had left for work. 

Gerard would be home alone and unprotected…perfect.

He pounded on the door as hard as he could and waited, turning to look over his shoulder out of habit. He was always waiting for someone to grab him, but no one ever did. Not anymore. Now, if someone tried—not that they would—he’d punch them so hard they’d lose all their front teeth and probably a few of the back ones.

Adam felt it when Gerard appeared behind the door, even though he couldn’t see him. He had a sense that told him when people were near—especially filthy people like the whore Gerard.

“Open the door, cum slut, or I’m busting it down,” Adam snapped. He didn’t have to scream. He didn’t want to make a scene and he knew Gerard would hear him. “Don’t make me ask twice, fuck stick.”

“Go away!” Gerard cried. Adam could have laughed if his face wasn’t trapped in a permanent scowl.

“Open the door, Gerard. Now you’re going to get it worse when you open the door.” Adam punched the door a few more times and he heard Gerard let out a sob. “Now!”

“No!” Gerard called defiantly. Adam was going to knock his teeth in once he got inside. “Go away!—I-I’ll call the cops!”

“And say what, cum dumpster? That someone knocked on your door? Open the fucking door!”

He sensed that Gerard were walking away from the door and changed his strategy.

“Okay, Gerard. Let’s look at it this way: You open the door, or I get pissed off and go home and treat my little pet to a nice little pain session. What do you say now? Open the _fuck_ up _now!_ ”

He heard Gerard whimper and the door lock cracked as his old enemy caved. He knew mentioning Marcus would get him talking. 

David had said as much in their phone conversation. He did not, however, mention how stubborn Gerard would be. The idiot only undid the deadbolt, but he left the chain lock in place. All Adam got to see of him after all these years was a sliver of his reddened face.

“What do you want?” Gerard asked.

“Now, you’re pissin’ me off,” Adam said. “Unlock the fuckin’ door or I’m going to kick it in.”

“Just tell me what you want!” Gerard cried, pulling back from the door. Adam growled and let his patience leave him. 

He took a step back from the door, picked up his left foot and sent a flat-footed kick straight the flimsy wood, right beneath the lock. The blow had enough force to break the cheap metal of the lock out of the wood of the doorframe and granted Adam access inside.

“I told you to fuckin’ open the door,” Adam spat, staring at Gerard who stumbled backwards away from him. He’d gotten fatter, and had dyed his hair a bright red but was letting his natural colour grow in at the roots. He looked a mess.

“What do you want?”

Adam heard dogs begin yapping as soon as the door had been kicked in, but now the tiny mutts burst into the room and jumped at him. Their shrill voices set something off in Adam’s mind and he sent his foot in the direction of one of the rats. The filthy little brown thing dodged his kick, and the white dog hid behind his pathetic master’s leg.

No…Gerard was no master. Gerard was a whore. A filthy, slimy whore. 

“D-don’t take this out on them,” Gerard whimpered. He was trying to act tough, but couldn’t quite pull it off. Master hadn’t mentioned that Gerard had lost all his fight.

“Shut up,” Adam snapped. The dogs began whimpering and ran away from the room—pathetic excuses for pets.

“What do you want?” Gerard questioned, turning his face away slowly. 

“Master said you’re lookin’ for my Marcus.”

“I-I’m not,” Gerard lied. Adam clenched his fists and tried to hold himself back for just a little bit longer. He was sick of Gerard trying to steal what was his. Gerard deserved to die. Master should have killed him instead of selling him—but no, Master hadn’t listened to Adam’s advice. Master had sold Gerard who had then sold him out.

“Yes you fuckin’ are. He’s mine now—you can’t have him, and I won’t sell him.”

“D-don’t…hurt Marcus,” Gerard whimpered, creeping back from the doorway and aiming for his kitchen. Adam couldn’t allow that. He couldn’t let the slut arm himself with a knife or even a spoon.

“Come _here,_ ” Adam commanded. Gerard shook his head, greasy red strands of it swinging in front of his ugly, pale face. “Come here, or I’ll go kick Marcus’s teeth in.”

“You’re gonna hurt him anyway,” Gerard said, backing up further. “What do you want from me?”

“What do _you_ want with _my_ Marcus?” Adam snapped. “I’m here because David Miles called me at home and said you were going to come for Marcus. Who do you think you are, you little slut? You can’t have him. You can’t steal shit from me.”

“I-I never said anything like that!” Gerard stammered. He was still backing towards the kitchen, but Adam followed him closely. He’d jump on him as soon as the opportunity came. “He said you were hurting him! That was the only thing he said! I never said a word about you or Marcus!”

“Then why were you there?” Adam screamed. He knew what this was. This was all a big trick. Gerard had destroyed their home and was now trying to build his own. He had this Fred or Phil or who the fuck ever in this home, and now he wanted to add Marcus, too. Adam wasn’t going to let that happen. Marcus was _his._ Marcus _loved_ him. Marcus didn’t have eyes for anybody else, and Adam made sure of that.

“I j-just went to see him! Leave me alone! Get out!” 

Adam took a chance and lunged at him. Fat-ass Gerard couldn’t even flinch before Adam had him pinned on the ground. Gerard started screaming and thrashing—all of his former fight coming back to him in just a few seconds.

Adam wasn’t surprised.

As he tried to roll Gerard onto his stomach in order to pin—or possibly break—his arms, Adam seethed into his enemy’s ear. He told him about how he watched his little lover leave for work, told him how easy it would be to cut the break lines on his car and kill him, or how simple it would be to knock him out and rape him right outside on the sidewalk when he came home late at night. 

He’d hoped the words would break Gerard’s will, but it just made him fight that much harder. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard laid, pinned to his kitchen floor, but he thrashed and fought as hard as he could even though it did him no good. He just wouldn’t let his better judgment win. Most of him wanted to scream and kick and bite until Adam let go, but a little voice whispered that he should pretend to give in until Adam loosened his grip and then attack with full force.

But he couldn’t stay calm. Not with Adam whispering things like:

“I could tear that little toy of yours apart. I could fuck him into the concrete until his body splits apart. You want me to rip him to pieces instead of you? He who has done nothing to me? You’re gonna let him fall in your place? I wonder what he’d think of you after I’ve punched out all his teeth and fucked his filthy, whore mouth!”

“Shut up!” Gerard screamed. “Just shut up! Just shut _up!_ Don’t you touch him! Don’t you ever, _ever_ touch him! You’re sick! You’re fucking sick, you son of a bitch!”

Despite his best efforts, Adam managed to flip him over and held him by his folded arm—threatening to break it.

“Don’t move,” Adam hissed. “I’ll break it, whore.”

“Wh-who are you calling a whore?” Gerard groaned. “You’re just the same as me!”

“No,” Adam seethed. “I’m the master of Marcus—and I will fucking take Master’s place for you, too.”

“Get off me!” Gerard screamed, trying to fight but finding the pain in his elbow unbearable as Adam threatened to snap the bones. The man’s grip didn’t falter.

“It’s you or your boy-toy…who would you rather see fucked?”

Gerard felt a twinge of panic hit him and began listening to his instincts, ceasing his fight and pretending to give in.

“N-not Frank—please, just…leave him out of this. I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt Frank and don’t hurt our dogs!”

“I don’t give a _fuck_ about your stupid rats! Now get up!” Adam began pulling up on his arm, keeping it bent behind his back. Gerard cried out from the pain, even though he tried to move agreeably to avoid any injuries that would inhibit his ability to fight. He’d take Adam to the bedroom—he’d lay down, let Adam on top of him, and then headbutt him as hard as possible—hopefully breaking his nose. 

Adam pulled him away from the kitchen and thrust him through the living room, back towards the bedroom. He muttered something about breaking teeth and tearing him apart, but Gerard just focused on his escape plans.

He didn’t want to run away from the apartment; he wanted to beat Adam to death—finally! Like he wanted to years ago.

When they reached the bedroom, Adam seemed to change his mind at the last second and held onto him tighter instead of throwing him towards the bed.

“Get on your fuckin’ knees.”

Gerard shuddered as Adam put the pressure on his bent arm until he obeyed. Adam fisted his hand in the hair on the back of Gerard’s head and then released his arm. Gerard wanted to sigh in relief, but the pain being inflicted on his head made it impossible. 

Adam stood there for a moment, not even swearing, just holding Gerard still by his hair.

“I want you dead,” Adam breathed into the air of the bedroom.

“So fuckin’ do it, you pussy,” Gerard growled. “Put me out of my goddamned misery.”

“Shut up!” Adam screamed yanking Gerard’s hair until he moaned in pain. “You don’t know misery! You always cried about how bad your trainer was—mine raped me! Mine shared me! He used me so much before he sold me that by the time Master had me, I was hardly worth what you sold for at the end! You don’t even _know_ pain!”

“So that’s what this is about?” Gerard spat. “You’re jealous because you’re used up and I’m not?”

The words worked as Gerard had hoped. Adam snapped and punched him in the jaw—freeing Gerard from his grip. The pain was mind-numbing, but Gerard only lost a few seconds as his mind came to grips with the explosion of pain and he got to his feet. 

His hope was that he would be able to break free of the bedroom and reach a phone or, if he had to, flee the apartment. He didn’t want to leave—he didn’t want to give Adam the chance to rob him blind or kill Frank’s dogs.

This was his mess, and he wanted Frank to be kept out of it.

But when Gerard tried to rush by Adam’s shoulder, the man lunged at him, knocking him over and slamming him into the doorframe of the bedroom. Gerard heard a loud crack and wasn’t sure if it was his skull or the wood of the frame. 

The blow left him delirious. His body slumped onto the floor and he felt Adam tugging on him, dragging him back towards the bedroom. Gerard squirmed trying to fight him, but Adam was stronger—faster.

Gerard thrashed slightly, trying to get Adam’s hands off the back of his shirt. His movements just encouraged the man to fist a hand in his hair and drag him painfully.

“Fuckin’ let me go!” Gerard screamed. “You’re fucking crazy!”

“And you’re fucked!” Adam shouted, forcibly tossing Gerard onto the bed. 

Gerard blinked through his pain and waited for Adam to drop onto him. He still had plans to fight—he just needed a second to gather the willpower to fight through the pain.

He probably managed three deep breaths before Adam moved one knee onto the bed. As soon as Gerard jerked forward, Adam cocked back a fist and punched him again. For every trick Gerard had, Adam seemed to have a quick counter strike.

This time, Gerard was sure Adam’s punch had broken his nose.

He fell back against the pillow clutching his face and rolling onto his side in an instinctive attempted to protect his face from any more unwarranted blows.

“Next time I’m knockin’ out your goddamned teeth,” Adam snapped. “Now fuckin’ stay put.”

Gerard moaned and rolled further onto his stomach, tucking an arm around his face and shivering against the pain. He didn’t know how much more he could take. He wanted to keep fighting—he was willing—but his body hurt, and he didn’t want to risk his life to protect his body from assault.

“You don’t want to do this,” Gerard muttered. He felt Adam’s weight fall over top of him and shuddered as the man started tugging on the belt supporting Gerard’s jeans. “Just get off me—you won. We’re even.”

“We are _not_ fuckin’ even!” Adam snapped. “Now shut your mouth!”

“Adam, stop,” Gerard groaned, not lowering himself to pleading. The more aggressive Adam became, the more Gerard wanted to fight. He hated this man with a passion. They fought on a daily basis when they saw each other in the house… They fought for years.

“I won’t stop!” Adam shouted. “I’m going to get even!”

“For what!” Gerard snapped. Adam elbowed him hard between the shoulder blades and he moaned softly and slumped back down against the mattress.

“For getting in my way! For getting me locked in that fucking room all day long! Master _never_ cared for me because you had him lock me away, you selfish little cunt!” Gerard held his breath when Adam managed to get his belt undone and began tugging at the zip of his pants.

He wasn’t going to let Adam have his way—it couldn’t end like that. 

“If you didn’t put my head into the wall—”

“Shut up! You had it comin’!” Adam grabbed Gerard’s wrist when he started to thrash and pinned it, just as he had before. Gerard cried out from the pain, knowing that if he moved the wrong way, Adam was going to break his wrist.

“Get off!” Gerard screamed, his voice turning into a sob when Adam followed through and twisted his arm—cracking bone and tearing muscles. 

“That’s right—cry you fucking bitch.”

Gerard wanted to give in and spare himself unnecessary pain, but he didn’t know where Adam would end it. He planned for rape, but he was mad enough to resort to murder, even after he had his way.

“Get off,” Gerard growled, starting to fight, but the pain that tore through his arm when he did left him motionless on the mattress. 

“Why don’t you make me?” Adam sneered, yanking Gerard’s pants down in one move with his free hand and laughing as he did. Gerard moaned in fear, trying not to panic but feeling the helplessness sink in despite his best efforts. “Now raise your thighs or I’m gonna break your other arm.”

Gerard thought about complying, and he thought about trying to break free when his injured wrist was released. He weighed the options against each other, but barely had time to decide before Adam pulled his other, undamaged arm away from his face and used it to pin him to the mattress.

He didn’t care what Adam did. He wasn’t going to comply with the demands. Gerard was done giving in. 

“Lift your fucking legs!” Adam snapped. 

“Make me,” Gerard growled.

“Oh, that’s how you like it? Alright, I guess I can play with that.”

Gerard had roughly three seconds to regret his words before Adam snaked his hand between Gerard’s thighs and the mattress. Adam choked out a laugh and dug his nails into the sensitive skin of Gerard’s groin. Gerard’s body jerked backwards, trying to escape the pain that only got worse and worse as Adam squeezed his fist tighter.

“Stop! Stop it!” Gerard screamed, getting into the position that Adam wanted him. His shaking breaths became heavy and rapid as he let his body fall into the pose his trainer had driven into his mind—thighs up, legs spread, back dipped, head down.

Gerard cried out in relief when Adam let go of him, but didn’t move an inch when he was left unrestrained as Adam undid his own jeans. He couldn’t fight. It was over—he’d lost.

Quickly, hoping to avoid another blow but willing to risk it, Gerard turned his face to look at the other side of his bedroom, staring at the photo of himself and Frank on the dresser across from the bed. As he felt Adam’s skin press against his, Gerard squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold on to the image of Frank.

( ) ( ) ( )

Bob knew Frank would kill him if he caught him talking to Gerard—even though he planned to just talk to him and not yell at him or start an argument—that was why he chose to come over on a day he knew Frank would be at work.

He parked his car in the only free spot on the street—four houses down, and walked towards the townhouse slowly. In some respects he was trying to talk himself out of this conversation, in others he was talking himself up and giving himself pointers. 

When he reached the strip of townhouses, he froze on the sidewalk. The door was hanging wide open, and Bob knew that Frank and Gerard owned two small dogs—they wouldn’t leave the door open. 

Bob took a deep breath and walked quickly up the house, keeping from running only because he wanted to keep his presence a secret as long as possible. If someone was robbing the place, he might be able to sneak up on them…

When he got to the doorstep he paused for a moment and listened. Immediately, he heard Gerard crying and the voice of another man. 

Closer examination of the door showed that the door had been kicked in, the chain lock broken off of the doorframe and hanging limply from the open door.

Bob stepped into the townhouse and spotted the dogs cowering together on the couch in the living room. They stared at him with wide eyes, but didn’t bark or even twitch their tails. 

The sounds of Gerard cries were filling the space and drowned out his footsteps as he walked back towards the bedroom. 

“Get off of me!” Gerard screamed, his voice mostly broken and torn from his cries. Bob could hear the mattress creaking and knew what was happening. 

“Shut up,” another man hissed, his voice choked, but not for the same reason as Gerard’s.

Bob stepped up to the doorway and peeked inside, not wanting to see the situation, but knowing he had to act before this went on any longer. The cops could take up to a half hour to come, and a quick glance proved that Bob could easily over-power Gerard’s attacker…his rapist.

Taking a deep breath, Bob prepared himself and stepped into the room slowly. He got as close to the bed as possible, but he only made it half way before the man atop Gerard started turning his head towards the door.

Bob couldn’t stall any longer. Before the man could look over his shoulder, Bob lunged and grabbed him in a chokehold. He heard Gerard scream when the man was torn off of him, but all of his attention became directed at the man who thrashed and clawed at him immediately.

“Let me go or I’ll fuckin’ tear him apart! I’ll rip him apart! Do you hear me!?” Bob dragged the man off of the bed and held him tighter. The guy may have been tall, but he was thin. Most of his power came from the force of his fists and his ability to throw kicks and his attempts to drop his weight onto the floor. 

“Cool it,” Bob hissed. “One move and I could break your neck.”

“Try it, fat ass,” the man hissed before trying to sink his teeth into Bob’s arm. It hurt, but Bob couldn’t let it get to him. He could tell that if the man got free, he had a lot of power in his speed and could probably get away. Bob couldn’t risk that happening—not with Gerard still lying on the bed sobbing.

As quickly as possible, Bob ran through what he knew of the townhouse’s floor plan, trying to think of a place to lock the man in until the cops could come. His only idea was the bathroom—conveniently to the right of the bedroom. 

Bob kicked the man’s legs out from under him when he had him in the doorway of the room, and then threw the man forward. The guy tried to catch his balance, but slipped and hit his head on the edge of the tub on his way to the floor. 

Bob slammed the door shut, but couldn’t lock it from the outside. He held onto the doorknob firmly as the man lost no time fighting against him.

“Open this door now!” The man screamed. “Now! Or when I get out I’ll break your fuckin’ face!”

“Like I haven’t heard that!” Bob yelled, holding the door as tightly as possible. The man pulled against him and the force he had was unreasonable for a man his size. 

“Let me out! Let me out, you fucking psycho!” Bob let the man scream to his heart’s content. While the man alternately threw himself at the door and screamed, Bob tried to figure out how to call the cops when he needed both hands and all his focus to keep that man trapped inside.

“Gerard?” Bob called. All he got in response were sobs. “Gerard, I know you’re hurt, but I need you to call the cops—call 911.” He got no answer, but instead of annoyance, he surprised himself when all he felt was pity. “Please, Gerard—I can’t hold him forever. Just call 911.”

He heard Gerard cry out a word, but didn’t know if it was ‘okay’ or ‘I can’t.’

“He’s not gonna call the cops on me, dumbshit,” the man on the other side of the door seethed. “He’s my fuckin’ property now. They won’t even lock me up if he does.”

“Don’t bet on it,” Bob shouted. 

“Trust me,” the man hissed, letting go of the door and taking several loud steps away. “Just call them and see.”

Bob took the chance when the man gave it and grabbed for his cell phone. If the man lunged at the door again, he’d drop the phone no matter what, but he had to take a shot.

He managed to dial the number, but as soon as he got the operator the man in the bathroom began pounding against the door. Bob put the phone on speaker and quickly set it aside on the floor. 

The man started screaming, drowning out Bob’s voice as he repeatedly shouted out Gerard’s address. He knew that the operator would understand the commotion, and hopefully send help to the right address.

“Sir? What’s the situation? Sir?”

“A break-in!” Bob screamed. “Assault! Send an ambulance!”

“Let me out!” The man screamed, banging on the door again.

“Give it up,” Bob hissed. “You’re not getting out!”

The man didn’t answer with words, he just started screaming like a lunatic and let go of the door again. He started thrashing around the bathroom, and it sounded like he was trying to break through the walls. 

And succeeding…

“Gerard?” Bob called. “Are you alright?” Gerard had stopped crying, and there was only silence from the bedroom. “Gerard!?”

“Don’t waste your breath on that little fuck-slut,” the man hissed. “He’s just a whore! He’s just a whore and you should kill him! Kill him before he kills someone else!—You killed Nicholas, Gerard! You did it! I was there! _Marcus_ was there! You did it!”

“Shut up!” Bob yelled, feeling himself becoming sick. 

“You’re a murderer!” The man kept screaming. “Murderer! You did it! You did it!”

“He wasn’t trained!” Gerard screamed from the bedroom. “He killed himself! Shut up! Just shut up!”

“You told him to!” 

“Shut up!” Gerard cried. “He wasn’t _trained!_ He couldn’t handle it! Just shut up!”

“Murderer! Killer! The cops will come for you!”

“Shut up!”

Bob was taken aback when Gerard staggered out of the bedroom. His face was covered in blood, and it looked like his nose had been broken. The clothes he’d managed to throw on were slowly becoming stained, and Gerard’s eyes looked angry enough to kill despite the tears that still came from them.

“I’ll murder you!” Gerard shouted. “Bob, get out of my way!”

“What, you think you’re gonna fight him?” Bob snapped, trying to block Gerard from grabbing at the door. “Go lay back down!”

“No!” Gerard cried. “Bob, move! Let me—”

“You’re hurt, Gerard—go lay down!”

“On _that_ bed!?” Gerard snapped. “Fuck you! Get out of my way! He can’t talk to me that way! Bob, move! Move!” Gerard started sobbing and clawing at the door, fighting just as hard to get in as that man tried to get out.

“Gerard, quit it!” Bob yelled. “Stop! Stop it! Go wait for the ambulance! You’re hurt!”

“I’m fine!” Gerard screamed.

“You want Frank to come home and see you like this? You’re _not_ fine! Go lay down on the couch!”

“Don’t talk about _Frank!_ ” Gerard cried. 

“Gerard,” Bob said, trying to take on a reasonable tone despite the blood and screams all around him. “Stop this—go lay down on the couch.”

“Bob, please let me in there—he has Marcus!”

“And the cops will have him if you go lay the fuck down now!” Bob screamed. He couldn’t take any more of this Marcus, Nicholas, training, murder bullshit. It was getting too weird.

Gerard sobbed and limped past Bob into the living room. He heard the dogs whimper and Gerard began crying out Frank’s name. The man in the bathroom started laughing for no reason and then Bob began to hear the sirens.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8_

Frank ran into the hospital, not really sure what entrance to use or who to ask to find the room he needed, but he crashed into a nurse on his way to the first reception desk he could see.

“Sir, can I help you?” The woman at the desk asked, not because she wanted to help him quickly, but because he’d terrified her.

“Wh-where is—Where is Gerard W-Way’s room, please? He was brought in about half an hour ago—he was in an ambulance. Please? What room is he in?”

The woman typed something into her computer and then fixed him with a strange gaze.

“Are you a relative?”

“No—he’s my…my partner, please! Where is he?” The nurse looked at him carefully and then glanced back at her screen. 

“You need to sign this visitor’s form. He’s in room 303 on the third—Hey!”

Frank bolted for the elevator as soon as he heard the room number. He didn’t need sign-in sheets. He needed his boyfriend. He’d been attacked—he’d been taken to the hospital in an ambulance for God’s sake!

Frank hadn’t known what to think when Bob called. At first he felt betrayed to know that Bob had gone to their home looking to pick a fight with Gerard about the band, but then he’d been so grateful that Bob had come. Without him…

Without him Gerard would be dead.

He was in tears when he stumbled into room 303, and burst out sobbing when he saw Gerard lying in the hospital bed, under the white sheets.

“Gerard?” Frank cried, staring at the bruises on Gerard’s face and the bandage around his nose. Bandages covered in blood. “Baby, no!” Frank sobbed, going to the bed and moving the sheets to see the cast covering Gerard’s arm.

Gerard’s eyes snapped open and he recoiled from Frank’s touch.

“Honey, I’m sorry,” Frank said, pulling back. “I didn’t mean to hurt you! I’m sorry—I should’ve stayed home—I didn’t know…”

“Frankie?” Gerard said softly.

“I’m sorry,” Frank said, crying and scanning Gerard’s face, taking in all of the bruises.

“They said…they were going to call Mom and Mikey…”

“They’re on their way—I called Mikey on my way over. What happened, Sweetheart? Bob said someone broke in…”

“It was Adam…” Gerard said, his face suddenly contorting with pain. Frank felt so guilty when tears formed in his eyes. “He…he—he, um…”

“What?” Frank asked, stroking Gerard’s cheek gently.

“H-he…um…I-I…I w-was in b-bed.”

“When he broke in?”

“Um…he…”

“He hurt you pretty bad…I’m so sorry.” Frank sobbed softly, unable to take the pain in his lover’s eyes.

“D-don’t t-tell my mom, b-but…h-he…”

“You don’t have to say it,” Frank said, closing his eyes tightly. “I know…I understand.”

“He broke my fuckin’ wrist,” Gerard snapped. “And he destroyed our bathroom.”

“I don’t care about the bathroom,” Frank whispered. “I’m just glad you’re okay…Bob called and I didn’t know what to think. Oh…Sweetheart…”

“He raped me,” Gerard whimpered. 

“Shh,” Frank said, slowly stroking Gerard’s hair and moving the sheets in order to hold Gerard’s hand.

“And Bob saw,” Gerard wept, his voice cracking as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“He wasn’t paying attention to that,” Frank said. “He just focused on getting him off of you—I’m sure.”

“Wh-when they discharge me, I have to go to the p-police station and answer q-questions.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“F-Frank I killed a boy…”

“We talked about this once,” Frank whispered. “You didn’t kill him. I know it’s strange to think this way, but you saved him. He would’ve suffered. And you did what you had to…”

“I feel sick,” Gerard whimpered. 

“Do you want me to call a nurse?” Frank asked quickly. 

“I’m going to be sick,” Gerard sobbed before leaning over the bed and getting sick onto the floor. 

“I’ll get a nurse,” Frank said. “And some water, okay?”

“Don’t go,” Gerard whimpered. “Please!”

“I’ll just step into the hall. No one will hurt you. I’m here now…”

“I feel sick,” Gerard repeated.

“I’ll get the nurse—I won’t be long.” It nearly killed Frank to step into the hallway and leave Gerard behind. He looked around quickly, trying to find a nurse but only seeing other visitors sliding in and out of rooms. Finally, after reaching room 343 of the hallway, Frank spotted a woman wearing dark blue scrubs. 

“Can I help you, sir?” The nurse asked as she wheeled an empty food cart out of room 344. 

“My…my boyfriend in room 303, he just got sick and he says he’s really not feeling well…Could you help him?” Frank was used to hospitals and how uncaring the majority of the staff could be, and he was surprised when the woman’s face lit with a soft smile.

“Gerard Way, right? Room 303.”

“Yes,” Frank said, looking back down the hall, wanting to get back to Gerard to make sure he felt safe and consoled. 

“The medication we gave him for the pain can cause nausea, as well as some of the antibiotics—”

“Antibiotics?” Frank asked quickly. The nurses eyes became very soft, and Frank was relieved to know that Gerard had such a kind person looking over him.

“Due to the nature of his attack…we prescribe antibiotics to help protect against any sort of infection.”

“Right,” Frank said, shaking his head. “But, for the sickness—can he get anything?”

“I can get him some Dramamine for the nausea—it should work within a few minutes and he’ll be able to rest some more.”

“And some water, too—since he’s sick…”

“Of course,” the nurse said, smiling softly. “I’ll be by the room in just a few minutes.”

“Thank you,” Frank said, not sparing another second before hurrying back to Gerard’s room. 

He reached the door the door at the same time as Mikey and Donna Way.

“Is he alright?” Donna asked. “Is he awake?”

“Yeah,” Frank said. “But…he just got sick so…I just got the nurse, she’s going to get some medicine to help.”

“Oh, okay.” Gerard’s mother looked Frank over and then hurried into the room. 

“Where were you?” Mikey asked, scrutinizing Frank who stood before him in tears. 

“I was at work!” Frank whispered harshly. “How was I to know this would happen?”

“We’re just lucky Bob was there… _Bob_ of all people.”

“Mikey, this wasn’t my fault,” Frank said, feeling more tears fall from his eyes. He knew he couldn’t be with Gerard 24/7, but now he felt guilty and didn’t think he could ever forgive himself for letting this happen, whether it was his fault or not.

“Whatever,” Mikey said, crossing his arms over his chest. “How bad is it?”

Frank opened his mouth to explain, but remembered that Gerard asked him not to tell. 

“Somebody broke in…”

“Yeah, Bob told me that—now answer me.”

“Mikey, stop blaming me,” Frank said, taking a step back from his friend and trying not to feel intimidated. “You know that if I’d been there I would’ve done everything I could…”

“How _bad_ is it?” Mikey asked again, narrowing his eyes.

“The guy broke his arm, or something…and his nose, I think. I just got here—he got sick and I went for the nurse.”

“You left him alone?” Mikey asked, raising his brow skeptically. 

Frank sank his teeth into his bottom lip and choked back more tears. 

“Why are you doing this?” Frank asked. “I was at _work!_ It’s not my fault!”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Mikey said, fixing Frank with a cold stare and taking a step into the room. “If you’d kept your promise, this wouldn’t have happened. Gerard might forgive you—by some blessed miracle—but I won’t. I will _never_ forgive you for this.” Frank turned his face away and tried not to cry any harder than he already was. “Now, give us some space for once. Why don’t you go get him a change of clothes and do something for him for a change…”

Mikey gave him one last glance before walking into the hospital room. Frank took a deep breath and lowered his head, trying not to fall to pieces.

“Hey.” Frank heard the voice come up from behind him and turned around quickly. “I got the Dramamine and a big cup of ice water,” the nurse said, fixing Frank with a smile that faltered when she saw his face.

When the woman resorted to biting her lip when she read Frank’s expression, he could take no more and fled for the elevator, unable to get out a word or a cry.

Frank practically ran to his car in the parking lot, but collapsed against the steering wheel as soon as his key reached the ignition. He felt as if he were going to die—like his heart might explode, or literally break in half. He couldn’t even breath through his agony. 

He hadn’t felt this badly since the night Gerard had left him all those years ago…

( ) ( ) ( )

“Where’s Frank?” Gerard asked, staring at the nurse who came in unaccompanied. His voice was shaking, but it gave no indication of how deep his terror really ran. “He said he’d come back! He pr-promised…”

“Shh, Gerard,” his mother said softly, rubbing his shoulder. “Hush.”

“No! Wh-where is he? Where’d he go? I heard him—I just heard him in the hall—Mikey, where’d he go?”

“He left,” Mikey said. His face was cold and Gerard didn’t like it. He wanted these people out of his room—he wanted Frank. 

“Wh-why?” Gerard asked, picking at his blanket with his good hand. The nurse tried to hand him pills and a cup of water, but he refused to take it. 

How could Frank just leave him like this? How could he abandon him now? When he needed him so badly…

“Sweetie, don’t cry,” his mother said softly.

“Leave,” Gerard said sharply, pulling away from her touch. 

“What?”

“Get out!” Gerard shouted, voice cracking. “Go away—just go! Get out!” He kept screaming until the nurse got his two visitors to leave, and only once they’d gone did he take the pills and drink the water that he wished were poison.

“It’s okay, Gerard,” the nurse said softly. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“He said he wouldn’t go,” Gerard cried pitifully. “He promised!”

“I think he went to get you clothes…”

“I don’t care!” Gerard cried, clawing at his face with his one good hand. “He promised!”

“I’m sorry,” the nurse said quietly, lowering her eyes to the floor and dutifully noticing the mess that needed cleaning. “Gerard, will you be alright here by yourself? We…can’t let you leave yet.”

“I’m fine,” Gerard said, crying softly. “Just…go.”

“Do you want me to put in that you don’t want any visitors?”

Gerard didn’t answer her. He wanted Frank…how could he just abandon him like this?

( ) ( ) ( )

There were still police officers at Frank’s townhouse when he arrived. At first, they didn’t want to let him inside, but he pleaded and they caved. 

The dogs had been tied to the legs of the couch with their leashes and Frank felt bad for them. They stared at him in fear when he walked into the house and didn’t even bark or show any sign that they were happy to see him. 

Frank walked back towards the bedroom and stopped to stare at the damage done to the bathroom where Bob had kept Adam trapped while the cops came. There were multiple holes punched and kicked into the wall, the toilet had been cracked, the lid had been used to crack the plastic of the tub, and the man had even kicked the wall so hard that he’d damaged several pipes.

Holding his breath, Frank stepped towards the bedroom and began sobbing helplessly when he saw the blood stains on his bed sheets. What was Gerard supposed to go home to when he was discharged? Frank couldn’t see him coming home to this…They were going to have to move. He couldn’t force Gerard to stay in the same house he was raped in.

“Sir?” One of the officers said, catching Frank off-guard.

“What?” Frank asked, hurrying over to their dresser and quickly piecing together an outfit for Gerard. He wanted out of this house—it was making him feel sick. 

“Would you be willing to answer a few questions for us about what happened here?” It wasn’t a question, it was just polite.

“I need to get Gerard his clothes…”

“Sir…”

“What?” Frank asked, sniffing and holding Gerard’s clothes to his chest as he hurried to the closet where he picked out one of Gerard’s favorite shirts, hoping it’d give him some comfort in the hospital.

“We need your cooperation.”

“What do you want to know? Did Gerard know the guy?—yeah. Did he come here looking to hurt Gerard?—yes, just look at the fucking door. Please—I need to get Gerard his clothes.”

“So Mr. Way had come into contact before with Adam Branson?”

“Check Gerard’s record, okay?”

“We ran his profile and found that he was cited for prostitution, but was never arrested.” The officer raised his brow and Frank wanted to punch him.

“For God’s sake, man! He was trafficked! Look at his _record!_ He was kidnapped when he was fifteen, trafficked, and then I took him home—please, let me go.”

“Just a few more questions; it won’t take long.” 

Frank sighed heavily and glanced over his shoulder at the bed. This was the closest he’d ever been to the hell that Gerard had lived for those eight years, and he couldn’t bear the thought of it.

“Please—Just look at his record. Gerard and this guy were kept by the same guy—David Miles. He’s in jail now. Gerard went to visit him in prison a few days ago, and then this happened.”

“Alright. Just…come with Mr. Way when he comes in to answer questions later.”

“Fine—I just need to go see him.”

( ) ( ) ( )

When he returned to the hospital, he was told that Gerard was not willing to see any visitors, but he begged for the nurse to ask Gerard to reconsider. He felt bad for pushing, but he needed to see Gerard again and reassure him that it would be okay.

“He says fine,” the nurse said, brushing past Frank and returning to her desk. She wasn’t as kind as the one Frank had spoken to before, but at least she’d helped…

Frank crept into the room that was growing dark as the sun lowered. Gerard laid with his back to the door and Frank felt guilt gnaw at his chest as he heard his lover sniff back tears.

“I…brought you clothes.”

“Why?” Gerard asked. “They’re keeping me for the night.”

“Is something wrong?—Why are they keeping you?”

“Is something _wrong?_ ” Gerard asked, sounding heartbroken. “I was raped in my own bed! I have to sleep there! My own fucking bed! _My_ bed!—Our bed—Frank, why did you leave without saying anything? How could you do that to me!?”

“I’m sorry,” Frank whispered, clutching the clothes tightly to his chest and trembling. “Mikey…said you needed clothes.”

“No—I needed _you!_ ” Gerard rolled onto his back and fixed Frank with the most painful gaze Frank had ever seen. “I wanted you here and you just left without telling me!”

“I’m sorry,” Frank said, trying not to cry, but barely able to keep himself from falling to his knees.

“I’m scared,” Gerard sniffed. “I don’t want to sleep here alone.”

“I’ll stay,” Frank said. 

“You can’t,” Gerard wept. “They won’t let you.”

“I won’t leave,” Frank said firmly. “I’m here for you. I love you…”

“I love you, too,” Gerard said, sobbing hard. “God…I don’t want to cry anymore, but this—this hurts so bad. I forgot how bad it hurt…”

“Try not to think about it, Sweetheart. I’m here. I’ll keep you safe.”

Frank set the pile of clothes down onto the chair beside Gerard’s bed and sat down on the small sliver of mattress available at Gerard’s side.

“Can we move?” Gerard asked. “I can’t…go back there.”

“Yeah,” Frank said. “Where would you like to move?”

“Another townhouse…maybe…if we can afford that.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it.”

“Lay down,” Gerard said softly, scooting over so Frank had more room. There was barely enough for both of them to fit, but Frank managed to make more when he convinced Gerard to lay his head on his chest. “Can’t we just stay here?” Gerard whispered. “…can’t get me here…”

Frank wrapped his arms carefully around Gerard and kissed the top of his head. 

“Where do you want to stay after we leave here?”

“Not Mom and Dad’s,” Gerard whispered. 

“Mikey?” Frank asked, feelings of guilt and distrust building in his stomach.

“No,” Gerard murmured before sighing heavily. “Can’t we…stay with someone you know? Adam was casing us. He knows my family, but he doesn’t know yours.”

“Gerard…I left home at eighteen. I haven’t talked to my family in…years.”

“Why?” Gerard asked quietly.

“Because I was a dumb kid,” Frank mumbled, petting Gerard’s hair softly. “And my whole family is Catholic and I’m gay.”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard said, sniffing softly.

“Don’t be,” Frank said quietly. “It’s okay. You don’t need to feel bad.”

“Can’t you make up?” Gerard mumbled.

“Yeah,” Frank said softly. “If…I knew their phone numbers.” Gerard kept pushing and Frank closed his eyes tightly against the pressure. He assumed it really was time that his parents learned to accept what he was. If they were Catholic and believed in divorce, then they could just fucking learn to accept him for who he was. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank managed to avoid being caught by the night nurses as he slept beside Gerard in the small hospital bed. Gerard was grateful for that when the nightmares starting hitting him around two a.m. 

Gerard had buried himself in Frank’s chest and cried for nearly three hours, hoping that the pain would stop but realizing quickly that it wouldn’t. Frank had called Ray and asked if they could stay with him for a few days.

Bob had called him already, and Ray was more than willing to inflate the air mattress and sacrifice his living room. 

When morning came, Gerard had just fallen back asleep. The pale sunlight that came in the windows helped to disperse the monster that hid in his shadows, but it wasn’t enough to keep the staff from requesting that they leave.

“You snuck in,” the nurse said, eyeing Frank and smirking. It was the same nurse as the night before—the one with the kind eyes.

“He needed me,” Frank said softly. 

“I understand,” the nurse whispered softly. “Sorry to rush you out, but we’re a little overcrowded.”

“It’s okay…” Frank looked down at Gerard who was still sleeping. “Can he have a little more time? He just fell asleep about half an hour ago.”

“I’ll get some breakfast for him and make sure it takes a few minutes to get here,” she said, offering him a wink. “It’ll give him about another half hour, but it’s the best I can do.”

“Thanks,” Frank answered quietly. 

“He’ll be okay,” the nurse said. “It’ll take a while, but he’ll recover. I mean, typically victims won’t even let someone as close to them as you are with him now—”

“It’s happened before,” Frank whispered, stroking Gerard’s hair but stopping when Gerard groaned. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the nurse whispered, lowering her eyes quickly and then backing towards the door. “I’ll delay the breakfast as long as I can.”

Frank woke Gerard gently when the breakfast came, but Gerard refused to eat and just got dressed. While he changed clothes in the room’s small bathroom, Frank called Ray to tell him that they’d be over soon. 

Frank tried to get Gerard to eat, but his boyfriend wanted nothing to do with food. He just mumbled that he wanted to go back to sleep, and he kept his word when they got into Frank’s car. Gerard laid down in the back and went to sleep, even though the ride to Frank’s apartment was less than fifteen minutes. 

“I had Ray pick up our dogs,” Frank said when they pulled into the parking lot of Ray’s apartment complex. “I’ll go back there later today to get your phone and some more of our clothes.”

“Okay, just…don’t take long,” Gerard whispered. 

“I won’t,” Frank said firmly. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Gerard whispered as he got out of the car. He moved slowly and tried not to limp. He was trying as hard as he could to disguise his pain and his shame. Frank just wanted him to know that it was okay to show weakness, but he was afraid Gerard would feel more embarrassment if he were told he looked weak.

Frank knocked on the door of Ray’s apartment, and tried to hold Gerard’s hand but his lover pulled away.

“Hey, guys,” Ray said, opening his door wide and letting them inside. The dogs couldn’t be heard, but Frank caught a glimpse of Pig hiding behind the couch as he stepped inside. “I just made some lunch if you’re hungry.”

“No thanks,” Gerard said quickly, limping over to the couch and laying down heavily.

“He’s…really tired,” Frank said quickly. “Food sounds good to me.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Ray whispered as he and Frank walked quickly into the kitchen. 

“I don’t know,” Frank answered. “It’s really early to be asking that. He needs rest.”

“Yeah,” Ray said quickly. “I understand—I just can’t believe this is all happening again.”

“I know,” Frank whispered, feeling the pain jab at his chest again. “I can’t talk about this,” he added. 

“Okay,” Ray said, flipping a grilled cheese sandwich onto a paper plate and handing it to Frank. “Bob wanted to know if he could stop by later. He’s really worried about Gerard—he wants to see how he’s doing.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what Gerard would think…”

“It’s about time Bob started to understand what’s been going on in Gerard’s life,” Ray muttered. “Maybe now he’ll go easier on him.”

“He doesn’t know shit,” Frank hissed, taking a bite of food and finding it salty. It felt wrong in his mouth and he felt sick to his stomach. “And we don’t want him to—it’s none of his business!”

“He’s just so hard on Gerard. It’d be better if he understood why—”

“Stop,” Frank whispered harshly, setting his plate aside. “There’s not going to be a band after this. Do you really think he’s going to build all of that confidence back again after this? No. No… So just…leave Gerard alone for a while.”

Ray sighed deeply, but Frank felt no remorse for what he said. He was sick of no one understanding Gerard like he did. Sure, Ray had been there from the beginning, but still he knew _nothing_ of Gerard. Ray had never heard the stories that Gerard would weep into Frank’s chest at night. Ray was never there to pick up the pieces after a nightmare. Ray hadn’t been there the night Gerard had gotten sick from Frank’s touch alone…

“I meant as a friend,” Ray said quietly.

“What?” Frank snapped, trying to keep his temper in check but finding it hard with his lack of sleep.

“I meant it would help Bob to be a better friend if he knew who Gerard was.”

“Bob doesn’t like Gerard, and I’m not going to sell my boyfriend out to him just so they can be ‘better friends.’”

“Frank…”

“Please, just stop,” Frank said quietly. “I can’t take anymore.”

“Frank?” Frank whipped around quickly to face the doorway to the kitchen where Gerard stood, holding Pig to his chest with his good arm. 

“Yeah, Sweetheart?” He asked, biting his lip to fight the tears that came when he looked over Gerard’s bandages and bruises once again. 

“Are you okay?” Gerard asked quietly.

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to worry about me—go lay down. Get some rest.”

“Or…some food,” Ray said quietly poking at another grilled cheese sandwich that was resting in the skillet.

“I can’t sleep,” Gerard mumbled. “And anything I eat is just going to come back up anyway.”

“Do you want me to come sit with you?” Frank asked. “I came out here so you could have some peace and quiet to sleep…”

“I don’t want to be alone,” Gerard whispered, looking down at the floor and holding onto the dog tighter. Pig didn’t even squirm.

“Okay,” Frank said, hurrying to Gerard’s side and kissing his cheek. “Let’s go sit down.”

“Ray, d-do you have…maybe some milk I could drink? I’m hungry, but…just can’t handle food right now.”

“Sure,” Ray said, going quickly to his refrigerator and retrieving a carton of milk. “It’s whole milk, so you’ll get more calories.”

“O-okay,” Gerard muttered, stiffening the more Frank tried to touch him. 

Frank carried Gerard’s cup of milk for him and handed it to him when Gerard finally set Pig down on the floor. 

“I feel bad that…that the dogs had to see that,” Gerard mumbled. “They’re still terrified.”

“At least they didn’t run away,” Ray said, probably just trying to make conversation, but it made Frank uncomfortable. He felt Gerard might take the comment wrong and feel offended or blamed.

Gerard didn’t answer, but he started sniffing, and when Frank stole a quick glance of his face he noted that Gerard had begun crying. He managed two sips of his milk before collapsing into sobs and burying his face carefully in Frank’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard wept. “I’m so sorry.” Frank took the cup of milk from Gerard’s hand and set it aside on the floor before pulling Gerard into his arms and holding him close. 

“Shh. It’ll be okay, Gerard. I’m here.” Gerard kept sobbing and Ray slowly retreated back towards his bedroom, giving them space.

“I-I’m so sick of c-crying,” Gerard wept. “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry, Frank.”

“Hush,” Frank whispered. “What are you sorry for? You haven’t done anything wrong, Gerard. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I-I s-slept w-with someone e-else,” Gerard choked out. Frank shook his head and held Gerard closer. He knew that wasn’t what was really bothering his lover, but he was willing to let it slide. He wasn’t going to push Gerard. Not now…not when he needed rest.

“Hush. You know I don’t blame you, and you know it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“I-I’m g-gross,” Gerard whimpered.

“No,” Frank said softly. “You’re not. Gerard, you’re perfect…”

“I only wanted to be with y-you,” Gerard cried. “I-I wanted my last p-partner to be you. I didn’t w-want to have to s-sleep with a-anyone else.”

“Honey, you didn’t have a choice,” Frank muttered, stroking Gerard’s hair and trying to calm him down. Gerard’s sobs were still heavy, and it was all he could do to stop him from wailing.

“I t-tried, Frank,” Gerard sobbed. “I t-tried to g-get him off me.”

“I know,” Frank said, squeezing Gerard tight as if the strength of his embrace could hold back his tears and his heartbreak. “I know you did.”

“Th-the c-cops ar-are g-going to th-think I w-wanted hi-him,” Gerard stuttered. “I-I didn’t! I don’t want him—I want Frankie. Frank, don’t leave me.” Gerard began clawing at Frank’s back, trying to hold him with all the strength he had in one arm.

“They won’t think that, Gerard. I promise. I won’t let them.”

“I-I d-don’t want to r-relive it in c-court,” Gerard sobbed. “I can’t.”

“Gerard, you have to,” Frank said firmly. “If you don’t, he’ll get out and believe me—I’m sorry—but he’ll come back. You have to testify. You have to put him away.”

“I can’t,” Gerard cried, trying to nuzzle Frank’s shoulder but crying out when the action shot pain through his broken nose. “I-I just wanna die!” Gerard broke down, falling into Frank’s lap and lying there as his chest heaved with the force of his sobs. 

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Frank sighed, petting Gerard’s hair gently. “It’ll get better…”

“No it won’t!” Gerard sobbed. “More will come—and more after th-them, a-and…a-a-and th-they’ll…they’ll— _No…_ ”

“Honey, no…there’s no one else. We’ll move and no one will find us.”

“W-We c-can’t g-go that far,” Gerard sobbed. He began to tremble and Frank rubbed his shoulder instead of petting his hair, hoping to calm him but failing at every attempt. “It hurts—It really hurts. I forgot it hurt so bad,” Gerard kept weeping, not at all consoled by Frank’s touches or words. Frank guessed he could only be thankful that Gerard was expressing his sorrow instead of hiding it behind false composure. 

“Sweetheart, you said he hurt Marcus,” Frank said, trying a different strategy to stop the tears. “Who is Marcus?” He knew damned well who Marcus was, and he had more than one suspicion about what would happen if the two were reunited. But if thoughts of Marcus helped calm his lover down, then he wouldn’t complain.

“M-Marcus w-was nice to me,” Gerard cried. “He n-never h-hurt anyone.”

“You must care a lot about him,” Frank said. He wasn’t trying to get Gerard to feel like he was being interrogated or attacked. He just wanted to redirect his focus to something less painful. If he loved Marcus the way Frank was afraid he did, then thoughts of him should calm Gerard down…

“H-He taught me h-how to k-keep Master ha-happy…” It worked. With each sentence Frank extracted, the calmer Gerard became. “M-Marcus and I used to kiss…”

“Kiss?” Frank asked, forcing his voice to remain light even though the words caused him pain. 

“When Master was at work…just really quick kisses.” Gerard sniffed and took in a shaking breath. “We knew we weren’t allowed, but…we were friends. If one of us got in trouble in the morning, we’d try to cheer each other up while Master was gone. It was just kisses…”

“You were lonely,” Frank said softly.

“I was more than lonely,” Gerard said, sobbing hard. Frank sighed heavily, not knowing how to keep Gerard calm any longer. “My wrist hurts so bad—so fucking bad!”

“I’m sure Ray has some Advil or something,” Frank said, rubbing Gerard’s shoulder. “You need to take something.”

“O-Okay,” Gerard cried. Frank managed to move off of the couch, laying Gerard down on the cushions. By the time he came back with the pills, Gerard had fallen into a tearful sleep.

“I didn’t know crying in your sleep was a real thing,” Ray said quietly as he crept out of his bedroom.

“He’s hurting,” Frank said quietly, picking the cup of milk up off of the floor and setting it on the coffee table. He placed the pills on the glass beside the cup and sat on the floor in front of the couch. 

“I can tell,” Ray mumbled. “You know you can stay here as long as you need.”

“We need a place we can stay without getting in the way,” Frank said softly. “He…he wants to stay with my family.”

“Frank, you don’t even talk to your parents.”

“ _I_ know that. But it’s what he wants…”

“What about Mikey? His apartment has room.” Frank bit his lip and stared at the floor. 

“Mikey…thinks this is my fault.”

“He’s just upset,” Ray said with a sigh. “He’ll get over himself.”

“Ray, you have no idea how bad this hurts me,” Frank said, leaning his head back against the couch. He could feel the tears building at the brim of his eyes, and try as he might to blink them back, they started to fall. “I already feel like…I should’ve been home, even though I didn’t know this would happen. When other people feel the same way, it just…Oh, God—I just wish I’d been home.”

“Gerard doesn’t blame you,” Ray whispered. “You can’t tear yourself apart over this—he needs you to be strong for him.”

“I’m trying,” Frank said, fighting to stop his tears. “It just hurts to see him like this. He’s been through enough, Ray. Why did this have to happen?”

“It’ll be okay,” Ray mumbled. “You should really get some rest, too.”

“No,” Frank whispered, turning to look at Gerard whose face twitched subtly. “I’ll just have bad dreams.” Frank watched Gerard, waiting for signs of bad dreams and ready to wake him as soon as one would appear. 

The wait lasted less than fifteen minutes.


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter 9_

Frank really couldn’t call first before showing up at his mother’s doorstep since he didn’t know her number, but he felt a phone call would be more awkward.

“Frank? Oh my God—oh, God, you’ve gotten so big!” Frank felt like he was a small child when his mother wrapped him up in her arms and squeezed him tight—like she were trying to smother him. He hadn’t seen her in almost six years.

“Hi, Mom,” Frank said quietly. “This will sound strange, but…I need a place to stay.”

“Frank, I’m your _mother._ My door is always open for you—God, it’s been forever!”

Frank sighed and glanced back at his car where Gerard was fidgeting nervously. Frank wished his mother’s excitement would last, but he knew that once it faded she would go back to her old self…her critical self. Her fag-hating self.

“It’s not just me, Mom,” Frank said quietly. “It’s…complicated.” His mother looked at his car and looked over the figure she saw inside. 

“There’s another man in your car, Frank,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, I thought I should’ve gone to Dad’s instead. Forget it,” Frank said, shaking his head and backing away from her.

“Wait—where are you going!?”

“I said forget it!” Frank snapped. “This was a mistake. I’ll see you at the next funeral.”

“Frank Iero, you do not walk away from me!”

“Why not?” Frank asked. “You turned your back on me!—you sold me out to all your friends and let their kids bully the shit out of me in hopes it would fix me! I’m not broken, Ma! I’m perfectly fine the way I am!”

“Stop,” his mother said, closing her eyes and turning her face away. “Stop—stop. Let me make it up to you. Let me fix it—I was…out of line back then and I’m sorry, Frank. But it’s against the church.”

“And so was your divorce,” Frank snapped. “And so was your contraception—if you’re such a good Catholic, why am I an only child? You can’t just pick and choose what rules to follow when it comes to religion, can you?”

“Stop it, Frank! I said I’d fix it!”

“You can’t,” Frank said. “It’s done.”

“Then let me put a roof over your head—and _his_ head, whoever he is.”

“Don’t you say one wrong word to him. He’s been through enough. _One word,_ Ma, and I will _never_ speak to you again. Never. And I mean that.”

“Frank, just give me a chance. It’s been six years. People can change.”

Frank sighed and walked slowly back to his car, opening the door for Gerard and offering his lover his hand.

“This was a mistake,” Gerard mumbled, trembling. 

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Frank said, moving a strand of hair out of Gerard’s face. “Wait until she finds out about Pig and Bear.”

“Oh God…I’m sorry I did this,” Gerard said, looking up at the doorstep where Frank’s mother stood peering at them.

“Don’t be. She’ll be nice for now. Besides…it’s not like we could live with Ray forever.”

Frank held Gerard’s undamaged hand as they walked up to the porch, not really thinking about what his mother would say, just wanting to make Gerard feel safe.

“Mom, this is Gerard.”

“Looks like you were in an accident, Gerard,” Frank’s mother said. Frank sighed heavily, and rubbed Gerard’s shoulder. “I’m Linda—come inside. I’ll get us something to drink—you like lemonade?”

“No,” Frank said, laughing. 

“I don’t care what you think, Frank,” his mother said. “You get water. You’re too bitter to have coffee and you’re sour enough without the lemonade.”

“Our townhouse was broken into,” Frank said. “Gerard was home…I was at work.”

“Oh, God…You poor thing,” Linda said, turning to look at Gerard and reaching out to touch his cheek. Frank could tell that Gerard did his best not to recoil from the contact. “Broke your nose and your arm?”

“My wrist,” Gerard said, looking to Frank and then scanning the room he was in. 

“Mm…hate crime?” Linda asked. Frank sighed heavily and shook his head. 

“Mom, does it look like I’m wearing rainbows and hanging pride flags in my windows? I don’t go advertising—just like you don’t go advertising that you’re straight. Just because someone attacks one of us doesn’t mean it’s because of my sexuality—Jesus Christ.”

“I never said you brought it on yourself…”

“I knew the guy,” Gerard mumbled. 

“Ex-boyfriend?” Linda asked, raising her eyebrow skeptically and making Frank want to slap her. 

“Not exactly,” Gerard said, shuddering and sinking into himself.

“Gerard, why don’t you sit on the couch? I’ll get you something to drink,” Frank said. Gerard wandered over to the couch and pulled his knees up to his chest, and Frank went quickly around the corner into the kitchen with his mother.

“Okay, what did I do this time?” his mother asked, looking at him with frustration.

“Mom, I’m going to tell you this once—and only because I don’t want you to hurt him.”

“Okay, what?”

“Gerard was raped by that guy. Please, don’t bring it up or ask about…that kind of thing or sex or _anything_ like that. He’s hurt pretty bad and I won’t let you damage him any more.”

“Well…where’s his family? Hasn’t he got a mother?” For once, she looked concerned. She’d even made an expression of pain when she heard of the assault.

“He doesn’t get along with his dad. We just need a place to stay until we can get a new place of our own.”

“As long as you need, Frank—please, don’t rush off. I haven’t seen you in years. Forgive me, but I want to get to know my son again. And my son’s…partner—how long have you two been together?

“Off and on since I was nineteen.”

“So it’s getting serious then…”

“I don’t want to be with anyone else, Mom.” Frank kept his eyes on his mother as he started the coffee maker. 

“So…how did you meet?” She asked softly.

“It’s complicated. Please don’t ask Gerard.”

“O-Okay,” his mother stammered, peeking back into the living room. “Any other surprises I should know about?”

“Yeah…just a couple things,” Frank said, leaning against the counter.

“What?”

“We have dogs…”

“Oh, Frank!”

“Two of them…but they’re little.”

“Frank Anthony! You know I hate dogs!”

“And they’re traumatized from the break-in, as you can imagine, so don’t yell at them.”

“I’m not going to yell at the dogs…damnit. Do they chew?”

“A little…”

“Are they housebroke?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, they can live inside.” Frank smirked and filled a cup with coffee as soon as the maker clicked off. However, by the time he reached the living room Gerard had fallen into one of his naps. They’d stayed at Ray’s for most of a week, and Frank didn’t think Gerard had slept for more than three hours the entire time. Especially not after he spoke with the officers about the attack… “How bad was the assault?” His mother asked quietly.

“He doesn’t sleep,” Frank whispered. “He’s a good guy, Mom. Just give him a chance.”

“If you’re happy then I guess that’s all that matters.”

“I wouldn’t call this happy,” Frank said quietly. “But I love him more than anything…I’d give anything to go back and stay home that day. The guy probably would’ve killed me without much work, but at least then I wouldn’t feel so fuckin’ guilty.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Frank. Let’s sit in the kitchen—let him sleep.”

Frank carried the coffee back into the kitchen and set it down on the counter. His mother sat down at the table, but Frank chose to lean against the counter.

“His brother says it’s my fault,” Frank said with a sigh. “He even convinced me to leave the hospital when Gerard was waiting for me to come back to the room.”

“You’re too sensitive,” his mother said. “You’ve always been so sensitive—his brother was just upset. He was looking for someone to blame. Didn’t they catch the guy who did this?”

“Yeah, he’s in jail. He was remanded without bail because he kept telling the judge he was going to come back and finish what he started.”

“Looks like he doesn’t care if he goes to prison or not…”

“The guy’s crazy,” Frank said. “He needs a psych ward.”

“He needs a prison cell and a cellmate that calls him Princess! I don’t care who a rapist attacks—man or woman—if you’re sick enough to rape somebody then you deserve to get the same.”

“Trust me, Mom. He’s already gone through all that…”

“What does that mean?”

“Don’t worry about it—forget I said anything.” Frank sighed heavily, trying not to feel pity for Adam. He hated Adam and wished him dead, but it was impossible to ignore the pain he’d survived. Frank was certain that every bit of weakness Gerard showed, Adam had hidden. Strip away his rage and his meanness and Frank knew he would be no different than Gerard had been the very first day Frank had brought him home.

“What’s all this secrecy? Who was this guy?”

“I can’t talk about it, Mom… It would betray Gerard’s trust. I’ve let him down enough.” Frank looked away and glanced out the window at the rain that started falling. If it had been raining that, would Adam have stayed away?

Probably not.

If it had been raining that night when Frank won the lottery, would he have still gone to that bar?

Probably not…

How different a little drop of rain could make the world…

“Frank, what have you gotten yourself into? Who is this man?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Frank said softly. “Gerard’s a good man. He wouldn’t hurt anybody…”

“So why do people keep hurting him?” His mother asked, clasping her hands together on top of the table. 

“Because he’s so beautiful,” Frank mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and trying not cry. 

“Frank?”

“I’m fine,” Frank whispered. “Just drop it.”

“You’re _not_ fine. I know you want to keep his secrets, but they’re hurting you too and you’re my son.”

“Gerard’s just had it hard, okay?”

“Frank…I’m not going to pass judgment on him. Is he from the streets?—A prostitute? I don’t care if that’s the case—”

“He’s not a fucking hooker!” Frank whispered harshly, glaring at her. He was sick of people thinking of Gerard that way. All it would take was one whisper and Gerard’s heart could be broken by accusations such as that. His past was the past—why did everyone need to ask questions? Why couldn’t they just accept him for who he was like Frank did?

“Then _what_ is he?”

“A victim,” Frank snapped. “Don’t you dare ask him…”

“Frank…I’m asking about you.”

“You’re trying to build a profile on my boyfriend that you can feed your work friends, and I won’t let you.” Frank tried to fight the flashbacks of his childhood, but the only way to repress them was to think of Gerard—and thoughts of Gerard hurt.

“I’m asking why you won’t tell me who this man is that’s sleeping on my couch…”

“And I’m telling you he’s a good man.”

“Then why is he being attacked by the people he knows?”

“Because Adam is a psycho,” Frank hissed. “Mom, quit. Please. I’m looking for another townhouse, we just don’t have the cash for a down payment yet—or rent since I had to pay a fifteen-hundred dollar deductible for the damage done to our last place. The _entire_ bathroom needs remodeled. He broke the _sink,_ the _toilet,_ the _bathtub,_ the fucking pipes, too, Ma. The man kicked through the wall and broke our pipes—and that was _after_ Bob got him off of Gerard. Imagine how much more energy he had _before_ then…”

Linda lowered her eyes to the table and Frank could see how hard she was trying to not think about it.

“Why don’t…you get the dogs out of your car and move your things in. You can sleep on the couch and I’ll give Gerard your room.”

“We can share the bed—it’s fine.”

“No. Not in my house. I’m sorry.” Frank rolled his eyes and turned his back to her. “Your father would say the same. So it’s that or the street.”

“Mom,” Frank whispered in his lowest possible voice. “I am not going to have sex with my _raped_ boyfriend in less than a week after the assault. He’s scared and this is a strange house. He needs me to keep him safe.”

“I’d say the same if it were a woman you weren’t married to.”

“No you wouldn’t,” Frank said. “Show some sympathy. God’s not going to damn you to Hell because you offered support to a man who was attacked. He’s gotta save room for the people who do shit like this to people like Gerard for fun.”

“ _Fine,_ ” She hissed.

“I mean, come on. Being gay isn’t even mentioned in the Ten Commandments. Alright? Murder, adultery, yeah—homosexuality? No. And to be quite honest, there’s more in that book about women being property than men loving men.”

“Just…go get the damned dogs,” his mother sighed, rubbing her forehead and shaking her head.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard sat on the couch, curled into Frank’s side and breathing softly. Frank stroked his hair gently, but kept his eyes fixed on his mother who was watching them intently. Her eyes weren’t angry or calculating…she was just watching them like they were some sort of foreign art that she was desperately trying to understand.

“Gerard, you have such interesting hair,” Frank’s mother said softly. “What made you pick red?”

“I change it sometimes,” Gerard mumbled. “It’s usually black…I usually dye it bright colours in the winter.”

“Frank never got in to dying his hair…just his skin.”

“I like art—I like my tattoos.” Frank leaned over and kissed the top of Gerard’s head, giving him as much affection as he could without it seeming like he was trying to make a scene.

“I hate needles,” Gerard mumbled. 

“Maybe you can talk some sense into my son,” Frank mother said with a heavy sigh. 

“Mom, I’m tired,” Frank said softly. “I think I’m gonna go to bed.” Frank shifted Gerard off of him and stood up from the couch. Gerard stood as well, but looked reluctant to follow Frank to the staircase leading up to the bedrooms. “Come on, Sweetheart.”

Gerard tried to mumbled goodnight, but couldn’t get the word out. He followed Frank up the stairs like a kicked dog and curled up on the mattress with his day clothes still on. 

“Are you going to be okay here?” Frank asked, taking off his shirt slowly and tossing it onto the floor. Gerard made a quiet sound of pain and Frank sighed heavily. “We can check out my dad’s tomorrow if you want. He’s no better about the gay thing, but he’s less likely to push you to answer questions.”

“I…I prefer your mom.” Frank didn’t ask why. “My arm hurts,” Gerard mumbled.

“Do you want me to get you some of your pain pills? I left them on the counter downstairs.”

“No,” Gerard mumbled, rolling onto his back and scanning Frank’s childhood room. “I used to have that same poster,” he mumbled emptily. 

“Something tells me we would’ve been friends if we’d known each other as kids,” Frank said, pulling on a pair of pajama pants and sitting down beside Gerard on the bed. 

“No,” Gerard said with a sigh. “I’d be that kid you wouldn’t want to go near. I was high, Frank. Without that Hell…we would never have met, and you wouldn’t love me. I mean…come on…I can’t even _like_ me.”

“Gerard, you’re a great person—”

“No, I’m not,” Gerard said, sniffing and rolling onto his side with his back to Frank. “Frank…I’m just…”

“No,” Frank said, touching Gerard’s shoulder and rolling him back over. “Gerard, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect.”

“I’m disgusting,” Gerard whimpered, rolling back over. Frank sighed and settled for rubbing his shoulder. 

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch tonight?”

“No,” Gerard said, barely audible. 

“Okay,” Frank whispered. He shut off the light and curled onto the bed beside Gerard, wrapping an arm protectively around him and kissing his cheek. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?” Gerard asked quietly.

“You’ve gotta try to sleep. I can tell you’re exhausted.”

“I’m…confused,” Gerard whimpered. 

“About what?” Frank asked softly, pulling Gerard closer and nuzzling the back of his neck. 

“Why are you with me?” Gerard asked softly.

“Because I love you,” Frank said softly.

“Why?” Gerard pressed.

“You forgave me for being in that place…”

“That’s cheap,” Gerard muttered. “I knew you didn’t want to be there. Your face was like a deer in headlights.”

“You let me take care of you, and…it felt like you wanted me in your life even though I was part of the bad parts of your life.”

“So you love me…because I loved you?”

_Loved._ Frank felt his body go numb.

“Because…you were so innocent,” Frank said, holding Gerard tighter even though his partner began to pull away. “You didn’t turn out like Adam, even though you had all the right to. You forgave everybody…”

“I hit you,” Gerard mumbled. “I’m just like him.”

“You’re nothing like him,” Frank whispered, loosening his grip when Gerard moaned in pain. He didn’t want to hurt his boyfriend—he’d been through enough.

“I just…I don’t like who I’m becoming. And I’m scared—I don’t want to be scared.”

“I know,” Frank replied. 

“I know why I tried to forget everything before,” Gerard sniffed. “Wh-when he came in I thought that b-because I’d g-gone through it all before, it would be e-easy to g-get over it.”

“It’s okay,” Frank said quietly, reaching up a hand to stroke Gerard’s hair. “I’m here this time.”

“You were there before,” Gerard wept. “Oh God, Frank…I just want to hide. I don’t even…I don’t even want to get out of this bed.”

“Shh,” Frank said, moving to kiss Gerard’s cheek. Gerard turned his face away and cried out softly.

“I want to die,” Gerard sobbed. “I wanna be dead—it hurts!”

“Shh. I know—I know, Sweetheart,” Frank said, kissing the back of Gerard’s head and searching for things to say. He knew nothing he could ever come up with would heal the pain, but he was desperate. 

“I just want to be with you!—Why won’t they let us be together?”

“We are together,” Frank said quietly. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

“I’m ruined,” Gerard cried. “I’m…”

“No,” Frank said firmly. “You’re perfect.”

“I’m hurt,” Gerard whimpered. “I’m…I’m terrified.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” Frank whispered. 

“I’m afraid to go back to work, and…and to sleep, or leave the h-house…”

“I’m here,” Frank whispered. “I’ll be here when you wake up, and…at the diner we’re looking for someone on my shift. You can work with me, too. I won’t leave you again.”

“I don’t want to leave the house. I don’t want seen by anybody, because…b-because what if it happens again?” Gerard started sobbing hard and gasping.

“Shh, it’ll be okay. I’m here,” Frank said, sitting up quickly and petting Gerard’s hair. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

“I just wanted to help Marcus!—Why did this have to happen?”

“I’m sorry,” Frank said softly, continuously stroking Gerard’s hair and trying to calm him down. 

“I can’t take anymore,” Gerard sobbed. “I really can’t, Frankie! I can’t. I w-was just starting to f-feel better after remembering. I-I was g-going t-to p-plan a date for S-Saturday and th-then he r-ruined me.”

“It’s okay,” Frank said. “We’ll get better. It takes time. I _know_ it takes time.”

“I don’t th-think I can anymore,” Gerard wept. “I-I don’t…I don’t want touched.”

“That’s fine,” Frank said quietly. “I don’t care about that, Gerard. I just want you to be happy.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Gerard cried, sounding heartbroken. “I learned that already. I can’t just k-keep turning you d-down. It’s not fair.”

“Shh, just try to sleep, Sweetheart.”

“Don’t leave me,” Gerard sobbed. “Please—I’ll get better.”

“I’m not leaving,” Frank said, kissing Gerard’s hair and holding him close. “Gerard—I won’t leave. Go to sleep. I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Gerard went quiet and trembled, and Frank fell asleep soon after the shaking stopped. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard stood stiffly in the kitchen, helping Frank’s mother prepare lunch while Frank was at work. 

She was a stern woman, but she wasn’t mean…intimidating as hell, but not mean. Gerard found himself liking her a little bit more each day, especially when he started seeing traits in her that reminded him of Frank.

“So…” Frank’s mother said. She didn’t add anything else. Frank kept warning her about things not to say, and now she didn’t feel confident saying or asking anything. It made living together awkward. 

“So,” Gerard mumbled quietly.

“I have to ask—how’d you meet my son? You don’t look anything like those punk kids he dated in high school. And I don’t mean punk like Punk Rock; I mean assholes.” Gerard chuckled softly and shrugged while tearing pieces of bread to use for bread pudding…or so he was told.

“Frank…um…”

“I know Frank tells you I’m going to ‘sell you out’ and preach at you—”

“Frank doesn’t say that,” Gerard mumbled softly.

“—but I’m really just curious. I learned six years ago what being judgmental gets you. My son moved out and didn’t talk to me again.”

“It’s not that I think you’ll judge me,” Gerard mumbled. “It’s just that it’s a bad story, and…kind of painful to remember.”

“You’re already remembering it though,” she pressed. She had a way of being manipulative. She was by no means the nicest, most generous woman, but Gerard didn’t dislike her. “I don’t know what else to talk to you about if I can’t even ask who you are.”

“I know,” Gerard whispered. “It’s just that…it’s not a conventional story. I mean, the second time we met it was at a store. I saw him and just started talking…”

“Second time?—Oh, that’s right. Frank said you two dated on and off since he was nineteen.”

“I…had issues,” Gerard mumbled. “I’m still sorting them all out right now, that’s why it’s hard to discuss.”

“Frank never used to keep secrets from me,” Linda mumbled. “Now that’s all he does.”

“He said your friends’ kids picked on him in school.”

“I made a mistake. I thought he was just rebelling, or trying to go against the church or lashing out at me for leaving his father and keeping him with me. I didn’t believe him and I thought if the kids said something to him at school he’d go back to ‘normal.’”

“It doesn’t change who he is,” Gerard mumbled. “Just because he loves me and not…not Kelley at work.”

“I know that now. You two are sweet together.”

“Frank…is probably the greatest person I know,” Gerard mumbled, lips curling into a smile. 

“So…what about when you were in school?” Gerard’s smile dropped and he didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t want to discuss his life anymore—he wanted to move past it—but he was now part of Frank’s life, and the lives of his family members. Linda had the right to know who her son was living with.

“I was…an addict in school. I wasn’t really out of the closet or… I wasn’t in school long,” Gerard admitted. 

“Oh,” Linda said, sounding disapproving. “Well, at least that’s over, right?”

“I got clean when I was fifteen…”

“Well, that’s young. Good for you,” she said, sounding too-polite, and almost condescending. 

“I…” Gerard stared at the scraps of bread in the bowl on the counter and felt himself beginning to shake. He didn’t want to tell her… He was so tired of reliving it, because to talk about all of that would bring back Adam and he was still trying to forget what it felt like to have that man inside of him—body and mind.

“So did you drop out of school?”

“I guess,” Gerard mumbled. “I finished later.”

“That’s good. Frank refused to go to college. I even offered to pay for everything and he said no, the little brat.”

“He wants to be a—”

“ _Musician._ Just like his father—that’s why we got divorced. He kept chasing these childhood fantasies of being a rock star. Kids like you and my son might have a chance, but old men don’t.”

“Frank and…me and my brother and a couple friends have a band…kind of.”

“How do you ‘kind of’ have a band?” Linda asked, chuckling softly and taking the bowl of bread scraps away from him. 

“I can’t sing my lyrics anymore,” Gerard mumbled. “They bring back the bad memories.”

“Well then you should stop seeing the lyrics as memories and see it more as you letting those things go.” She stared at him until he looked at her and then all she had to offer was a smirk. “When you can sing them, you’ll know that you’ve recovered enough to let those memories go.”

“You don’t understand,” Gerard whispered. “They’re not like…fighting your inner demons kind of lyrics. They’re subtle, but…they hurt.”

“So write new lyrics.”

“They won’t be any good. The ones we have are only worth anything because of the emotions in them, but…”

“The wounds are still raw,” Linda stated. “I guess that makes sense. But can’t you give me a hint? What’s all this secrecy about? Is it something Frank did to you?”

“No,” Gerard said, shaking his head quickly. “No—No, Frank would never hurt me. It just hurts to think about it. It’s…It’s really painful.”

“I’m starting to get a little scared for you, Gerard,” Linda said, reaching over to rub Gerard’s shoulder.

“Just know that…Frank saved me from it. I’ll never be able to make it up to him for all he’s done for me, even now when I keep making things get worse.”

“Gerard, it’s not your fault that you got attacked.”

“It actually is,” Gerard whispered, feeling his chest start to hurt. 

“No,” Linda said firmly. Her voice sounded just like Frank’s when he tried to get his point across. 

“I started…meddling in things and got what I had coming to me,” Gerard said, not trying to get pity, but wanting her to stop trying to fix him.

“Look at me,” Linda said, grabbing Gerard by his chin and forcing him to look in her eyes. Gerard jerked away—not to be rude, but out of surprise—but she just grabbed him again. “ _Look_ at me.” Gerard stared at her and started chewing his lip. Her eyes were just like Frank’s… only harder. “It doesn’t matter if you were wearing a shirt that said ‘No Means Yes;’ you did _not_ bring this on yourself.”

“You don’t understand,” Gerard mumbled, pulling away from her and feeling sick to his stomach. Frank must’ve told her what really happened during the break-in, and that hurt because he said he wouldn’t…

“Then tell me,” Linda said, shrugging her shoulders. “Maybe I can help you out.”

“I don’t think…” Gerard stared out the kitchen window and swallowed hard. He was running out of ideas of who he could and couldn’t trust. He knew Frank probably told her about his assault just to keep her from asking inappropriate questions, but that didn’t make it better…

“I used to be a mentor for the kids in our prayer group—I know how to listen. I may not look it, but I know how to listen.” He didn’t understand why she had to push so hard. His parents had hardly asked Frank any questions about his personal life…but that was most likely because they were in on the secrets.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Gerard mumbled, trying to leave the kitchen. He didn’t know where he could run to, but he had a feeling that she would follow him.

“Why not?” Gerard started feeling helpless, and with that helplessness came a spark of anger. 

It was the same kind of spark that led him to hit Frank for no reason, and grab his arm hard enough to leave bruises. He was tired of being the victim, and sick—fucking sick—of being treated like one. 

Yeah, with Frank he wanted to curl up and show all of his weaknesses, but when he was with others he wanted to put on a brave face and not have it questioned and picked apart. He wanted Frank to make him feel secure, but he wanted the rest of the world to see him as a man who could stand on his own.

It wasn’t fair that everyone could see straight through him.

“Fine,” Gerard hissed, letting the anger take over because the anger made him feel safe. “I was fifteen, I was high, I got kidnapped. Frank found me, Frank saved me, Frank took me home. I left Frank, I got over Frank, found Frank, got back with Frank. Now we’re here. Satisfied? Or do I need to go back to where I popped out of my mother’s fucking womb?” Gerard left the kitchen felt like tearing his hair out by the time he reached the living room.

“Excuse me!?” Linda called, following after him and acting as if she had a right to be offended after pushing him to the breaking point.

“Just stop!” Gerard called. “I can’t do this—I can’t!”

“You don’t need to be disrespectful,” she said, following him to the living room and blocking his path to the stairs.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t keep pushing me like this,” Gerard moaned, turning to look at the front door. He could run… He could just run. He forgot it all once—would it be hard to forget it all again? “Just…ask Frank. I-I can’t talk about it. I don’t want relive it all again, please.”

“Alright,” Linda said softly. “Just…promise you’re not a serial killer or some punk kid who wants to hurt my Frank.”

“I would never hurt Frank,” Gerard muttered, keeping his eyes fixed on the door and trying to work up the nerve to run. He didn’t think he’d get far with his arm in a sling. “I owe everything I have to Frank.” Gerard lowered his eyes and tried not to think about how hard he had hit Frank that night. He tried not to think about the bruises he’d left on his boyfriend’s wrist…but it didn’t work. 

He felt so damned guilty…how was it that his trainer and his master never felt bad for the things they’d done?

( ) ( ) ( )

When Frank got home from work he was almost frightened by how closely Gerard clung to him. It seemed that from his first step into the house, Gerard attached himself to his side and followed him everywhere he went. Typically, when he changed out of his work clothes, Gerard would leave the room…tonight, he decided to stand as close to him as possible as he took of his work shirt and stripped off his khaki pants.

“Are you…okay?” Frank asked softly, pressing a soft kiss to Gerard’s cheek. 

“Yeah,” Gerard mumbled.

“Was my mom hard on you? I’m sorry…”

“She’s fine,” Gerard said, wrapping his good arm around Frank’s torso and holding onto him tightly.

“You sure?” Frank asked, leaning back in order to look Gerard in the eye. Gerard looked scared. 

“Yes.”

“Did something happen?” Frank whispered.

“I yelled at your mom,” Gerard said quietly. “I’m sorry…”

“She was interrogating you, wasn’t she?” Frank said, feeling annoyance sink in. He thought she would understand when he told her not to push him, and that he was traumatized…

“I...I don’t feel good,” Gerard groaned, dropping his head down onto Frank’s shoulder.

“I’ll say something to her,” Frank said, rubbing Gerard’s back gently.

“Don’t,” Gerard whispered. “I told her…you could tell her about me. I just can’t talk about it. I don’t care if she knows…”

“Gerard, you don’t understand her,” Frank said, trying to take a step back from Gerard. “What I tell her, she tells every person she knows—everyone in her prayer group, which is pretty big.”

“She’s learned, Frank,” Gerard said quietly, not letting Frank break their embrace. “It really hurt her when you left…”

“I don’t need a lecture,” Frank said, regretting it when he saw hurt spark in Gerard’s eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Gerard said, stepping back and sitting down on Frank’s bed. “I…I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s…It’s fine. You’re right—she’s had time to learn from her mistakes. I’m just afraid she’ll say something to the wrong person and that you’ll get hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard whispered, staring at the floor. He was putting his walls up again, and Frank could see it as it was happening. 

“Do you want me to tell her about us?” Frank asked softly. “She _doesn’t_ have to know.”

“I just…she’s your mom and…she needs to know who I am.”

“Okay,” Frank said quietly. “What do you want her to know?”

“That I’m a whore and for some reason you love me,” Gerard said, starting to cry. Frank sighed heavily and wrapped Gerard up in his arms.

“Hush,” Frank said. It was draining trying to care for Gerard. It hurt hearing Gerard speak ill of himself, and it got repetitive having to pick up the pieces that were left of him after each new problem that arose. But he loved Gerard…even the weakest parts of him. “You’re beautiful,” he said, kissing the top of Gerard’s head as he cried onto his chest.

“I missed you,” Gerard sniffed. 

“I had to go to work,” Frank said softly.

“I know…But, I missed you.” Gerard rutted his head more firmly against Frank’s chest, making Frank smile. He longed for the day that he’d be able to wrap Gerard up in his arms and curl up with him in bed. It didn’t matter if they had sex—Frank just wanted their intimacy back. And he was willing to wait as long as it took to have that back, whether it was six weeks or six years.

“You’re so beautiful,” Frank said, tilting Gerard’s chin up in order to look him in the eyes, hoping his words would somehow get through. Frank didn’t feel like he could say it enough times replace the insults and years of degradation. “You’ve got such pretty eyes, do you know that?”

“Really?” Gerard asked, looking away briefly and then meeting Frank’s gaze.

“Yeah…” Frank pressed a kiss to the top of Gerard’s head and stepped back from the bed. “You’re handsome—what did Mom make for dinner?”

“Pasta,” Gerard mumbled, standing up slowly and putting his arm around Frank and putting his head on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Frank asked, giving Gerard another hug and enjoying the contact. He still remembered what it was like when Gerard was afraid to be touched…

“I missed you,” Gerard mumbled. “I miss you,” he repeated, his tone changing and implying something that Frank didn’t understand.

“Maybe you can get work with me at the diner,” Frank said. “We won’t work all the same days, but it might—”

“Miss you,” Gerard repeated, running his hand down Frank’s chest and stopping at the waistband of his jeans.

“N-no,” Frank said, backing up a step. “Don’t…don’t think about it, okay? You’re not ready for that, and I’m not okay with that right now either…”

“Why?” Gerard asked, moving his hand to Frank’s shoulder and pushing his head against Frank’s. 

“Someone hurt you,” Frank said softly. “I’m not okay with that. I wish I could kill that guy, Gerard.”

“It’s not his fault,” Gerard whispered. “I hate him, too, but it’s not…not him.”

“I know,” Frank said, pulling Gerard into a hug that he knew was too tight. Gerard moaned in pain and Frank reluctantly let go. “When we’re both better…I’m going to do something really great for you.”

“A surprise?” Gerard asked, perking up a little. 

“Yeah,” Frank said, offering him a smile and stealing a quick, gentle kiss on the lips. 

“After dinner, let’s take a nap…”

“Okay,” Frank said, stroking Gerard’s hair before finally breaking away from him and heading back downstairs to get food.

( ) ( ) ( )

“So what’s the story,” Linda whispered. Frank was lying in bed with his boyfriend sleeping on his chest. They looked like a real couple…not like boys playing a twisted game of house.

“I won the lottery about six months after I moved into my own apartment. I got five thousand dollars and decided to spend it on alcohol in a bar I didn’t know. It looked sleazy and I didn’t think they would card me because I was underage.”

“You shouldn’t be drinking,” Linda mumbled, waiting for the story to turn to Gerard the Prostitute, or Gerard the Drug Dealer.

“It wasn’t a bar,” Frank said with a heavy sigh, checking Gerard’s face to make sure he was still asleep.

“A whore house?” Linda asked, not surprised that her son who had always run around with punks decided to court a hooker.

“No, Mom. It was a lot worse than that.” She saw the pain grow in her son’s eyes and was surprised to see him close to tears. “They…sold people into slavery. It’s so sick…” Linda felt something cold drop into the pit of her stomach and she shuddered. Some may have called her Catholic culture sheltered, but she watched the news and she knew what horrors happened in the real world.

She’d seen the news special years ago about the discovery of the human trafficking ring in her home state of Jersey and shuddered to think of what horrors Frank had seen in such a place. He was lucky not to have been abducted himself!

“Gerard was…trafficked,” Linda said so Frank wouldn’t have to.

“Yes,” Frank answered, kissing the top of Gerard’s head and then nuzzling it gently. He reminded her of a parent with a small child.

“Oh, the poor thing…” She stared at Gerard who twitched slightly in his sleep and felt overwhelmed with pity for him. She wanted to call his mother and tell her how sorry she was that such a thing happened to her child—and that she couldn’t imagine what she would have done had she lost Frank to such a thing. “And now he was—” she stopped and lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper, “—he was raped again?” She asked. “How’s he handling this? I wouldn’t be able to…no. This poor man.”

She wanted to reach out and offer Gerard comfort, but she was terrified of waking him. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully, curled up beside her son.

“I kept him in my apartment for a few days—I didn’t really know what to do, but the cops came and he went home.”

“How did you…” She knew what she wanted to ask, but was afraid she would just cause offense or say it wrong. “When did you…fall in love with Gerard?”

“I don’t know,” Frank answered in a quiet voice. “Somewhere between taking care of him and going to see him at his parents’ house. At first…he wasn’t like a _person._ I mean, I’ve always seen him as a person, but…he was just like a machine. It was horrible. Then he started…he came to life.” A smile twitched on Frank’s lips and he started caressing a lock of Gerard’s hair.

“You saved his life, Frank,” Linda said softly. “You do the work of God.” Her son rolled his eyes, but Linda ignored the gesture. “But why did you two break up after you saved him?”

“Gerard said he wanted to forget about everything that happened, and I was just a reminder of all the bad things.” Frank stopped petting Gerard’s hair and lay still on the bed. “Then we ran into each other again and we’ve been together for two years now.”

“He’s very handsome, Frank,” Linda said, allowing the conversation to shift to more pleasant things.

“He’s perfect,” Frank mumbled. “He means the world to me.”

“What’s his family like?” Linda asked in a quiet voice. 

“Mikey hates me,” Frank whispered. Once again he looked close to tears. “I don’t know what I could’ve done to stop this from happening to him. I tried to talk him out of going to the prison to confront the guy who kept him all those years, but he wanted to go. And I think that guy called Adam—called the guy who broke in—and told him to do it.”

“So…his kidnapper went down in that bust four years ago?”

“I don’t know about his kidnapper, but the guy who bought him from the kidnapper is in jail, yeah. Adam was one of his slaves, too.”

“He had more than _one?_ ” Linda asked, feeling disgust and horror sink in.

“Apparently he had a lot of them,” Frank mumbled. 

“He really does love you a lot, Frank,” Linda said, looking at Gerard and feeling that any man who could hurt him deserved to rot in Hell. Even when Gerard got angry he tried to run away rather than be confrontational. He was innocent…and sweet. And he loved her son more than she had ever loved her own husband when she’d been married.

“I know,” Frank said quietly. “I didn’t mean for him to get hurt.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You can’t be with him all day. You know that.”

“I wish I could. I’d protect him…”

“Everything happens for a reason, and—”

“Don’t tell me that it had to happen,” Frank said firmly, keeping his voice quiet to keep his lover asleep. “Telling me God got my boyfriend raped is not going to make me a better Christian. Don’t. Because in a week you’ll twist it into God punishing us for being the way he fucking made us.”

Linda let it drop. She didn’t even come up with an alternative end to her sentence. Before, she thought it was a choice—that Frank chose to sleep with men because he wanted to spite her and spite the church—but after seeing the love that he and Gerard had for each other, she knew better. They were made for each other, and—as far as she knew—only God could decide who fell in love.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a law student, nor am I well-versed in court proceedings. Please don't attack me. What I know, I know from TV, and we all know how realistic that is.

_Chapter 10_

Frank woke up to Gerard digging his free hand into his side with incredible, painful force.

“Gerard?” Frank asked, trying to roll over to look at him. Gerard made a quiet noise and started squeezing tighter. “Honey, that _hurts!_ ” Gerard made another sound and moved his hand further up Frank’s ribcage. His grip didn’t loosen. “Gerard, please,” Frank called, trying to pull away.

“Don’t go,” Gerard breathed.

“Gerard, you’re hurting me—please let go. I’m not going to leave…”

Gerard slid his hand down to Frank’s hip and finally softened his grip.

“What’s wrong?” Frank asked softly.

“Nightmare,” Gerard mumbled. Frank rolled over, trying not to shoulder Gerard or hit his broken wrist as he shifted in the tiny bed.

“Do you need to get up?” Frank asked, kissing Gerard’s forehead and smoothing back his hair.

“No,” Gerard whispered. “Stay here.”

“Okay,” Frank said, cuddling close. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I went back to the prison…and got mixed up for a convict and they put me inside.”

“You’re not going to jail, Honey,” Frank said softly.

“Master and Adam were there…”

“Shh,” Frank whispered, kissing Gerard’s forehead once again.

“He’s going to get out and hurt me,” Gerard said before starting to sob. 

“No,” Frank cooed. “No—he’s not going to get out.”

“They won’t put Adam away for life,” Gerard cried. “He’ll get out and find me. It’ll never end, Frank. Don’t go away…” Gerard tightened his grip again and started digging his nails into Frank’s skin.

“Gerard, that _really_ hurts, Honey.”

“I’m ruined,” Gerard whimpered. “You’re _going_ to leave…”

“No,” Frank mumbled. “No, Gerard. You’re not ruined—people don’t get _ruined._ ”

“I can’t… _We_ can’t…” Gerard slid his hand down Frank’s hip and squeezed. Frank pulled back slightly. He didn’t know why Gerard kept making motions and then saying they _couldn’t._ It was as though he were making an offer, but going back on it as soon as the suggestion was made. Why was he trying to push himself? He knew Frank would wait for him…he had to know that by now…

“Gerard, you _know_ I’m not going to make you…”

“You should…” Gerard whispered quietly.

“No!” Frank cried out. “Gerard, _never._ ”

“I want to be better,” Gerard said before sniffing. “I was _ready…_ I was ready and then _he_ showed up. Now I can’t anymore, and I never will again.” Gerard started sobbing hard and Frank pulled him closer.

“Hush…”

“You love me, right?”

“Gerard, you know I do…”

“I want Adam dead,” Gerard said, voice cracking. Frank pressed their foreheads together and sighed. “How could he do that? He’s not even my master!”

“Gerard, you don’t have a master,” Frank whispered. 

“If Master got out and did the same thing…it would make sense,” Gerard whimpered. “Adam had no right— _no right!_ ”

“Shh, Gerard. No. No one has the right to do that to you,” Frank mumbled.

“I want to kill him—if Master had been there, Master would’ve killed him! I hate him—I hate him,” Gerard cried, grabbing Frank once again and digging in his nails. Frank hissed in pain but knew it would do no good to ask him to let go. “He took _everything,_ ” Gerard choked. “We don’t even have a home now—I didn’t know someone could _take_ that from me!”

“We’ll get a new place. You never liked the townhouse anyway.”

“But I didn’t want it taken!” Gerard cried.

“Shh. I know. You’re gonna wake my mom. You gotta be quiet.”

“Even if he goes to jail, he’s gonna get out and he’ll be angrier and he’ll come back.”

“He can’t chase us forever. It’ll give you time to get your strength back—Bob said you did a number on him. You could fight him and win.”

“I used to always win…”

“You don’t need to be ashamed,” Frank said softly. Gerard sighed and loosened his grip on Frank’s hip. 

“I feel like I cheated on you,” Gerard mumbled. 

“You didn’t,” Frank said softly. “Go to sleep.”

“I hurt,” Gerard whispered. 

“I can get you more pain pills.”

“Kiss me,” Gerard murmured before pushing his face closer to Frank’s on the pillow.

“Love you, Sweetheart,” Frank said before pressing his lips against Gerard’s gently. Gerard flinched when Frank’s nose brushed against his, but didn’t pull away from the kiss. “Go to sleep, Beautiful. I’ll be right here.”

Gerard sighed and put his leg over Frank’s slowly. Before long, his grip fell from Frank’s side and landed between their bodies on the narrow mattress. In his sleep, he was defenseless. He was vulnerable and beautiful…and above all, peaceful.

Frank liked watching him sleep. If only his waking didn’t always have to be so tragic and frightful.

( ) ( ) ( )

“You look very good in this suit, Gerard,” Linda said, running her hands over Gerard’s shoulders. She’d helped him tie his tie while Frank was in the shower. “Very sophisticated.”

“I’m not going to look sophisticated for long when Adam starts telling everyone I’m a whore…”

“Hush now,” Linda said firmly. “I don’t like that language in my house.”

“It’s what I am,” Gerard said softly.

“It’s what you _were._ Unless you’re cheating on my son…”

“Is rape cheating?” Gerard asked, staring at his reflection in the mirror and swallowing hard. He’d dyed his hair back to black and it made him sick to his stomach every time he saw it. It reminded him of master…he really hoped they wouldn’t bring his master into the courtroom. He felt like he’d start crying just at the sight of him…just like he had when he saw him in prison. It was going to be hard enough confronting Adam…

“No, rape is not cheating,” Linda said firmly. “You know better than to say that.”

“I don’t want to do this,” Gerard whispered. “He’s going to get out. He’s going to find me and he’ll be even angrier.”

“You don’t know that,” Linda said. “You can’t just let him walk away. What about that poor man that lives with him?”

“Don’t talk about Marcus,” Gerard whispered. He was afraid that Marcus was going to be there…he was afraid Marcus wouldn’t be happy to see him, too.

“Alright.” The shower turned off and Gerard started for the doorway. 

“I want to talk to Frank,” he said when Linda grabbed his arm.

“Can’t he get dressed first?” She asked. Gerard stared at her and then looked back at the bathroom door. He wasn’t sure if she was aware yet or not that marriage for them wasn’t legal and that they used to have sex all the time. There was no part of Frank he hadn’t seen before.

“I want to talk to him,” Gerard said, pulling his arm free of her grasp. He walked into the bathroom without knocking and startled Frank so bad he slipped on the tile floor and fell.

“Shit!—You scared the hell out of me!” Frank sighed heavily grabbed the towel he’d been holding off the floor and wrapped it around his waist as he started standing stiffly. “What?” 

He sounded angry. Gerard didn’t blame him.

“I’m scared,” Gerard whispered.

“Don’t be scared,” Frank said quietly. “Can you go back to the room—I need to get dressed.”

Gerard felt his heart sink in his chest and he looked Frank over. He liked Frank’s skin…tan, tight, sleek… He took a step closer to Frank and rested his hands on Frank’s hips.

“What?” Frank asked. He kept turning his face away to look at the door and the shower, but when he finally just looked up at Gerard, Gerard pressed a firm kiss to his lips. “Honey, we gotta get ready. Go back to the room. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Gerard frowned and nodded before leaving the bathroom. He apologized, but he kept his voice less than audible. Even though he knew Frank was stressed, this just felt like rejection.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard felt his breath catch in his throat when he saw Marcus walk into the courtroom. Immediately, Marcus’s eyes landed on him and he looked petrified. He looked just like Gerard remembered—blonde, thin, and beautiful. 

Gerard would have greeted him, but he was on the other side of the courtroom and he’d have to yell for Marcus to hear him. So he stayed quiet and stared.

Adam came in late, and the shoulder of his suit was ripped. He looked like he’d been in a fight, and the look he fixed on Gerard said he was ready to start another one. 

“Just keep calm, Gerard,” Denis Kroffe said. He was Gerard’s cheap attorney. He and Frank couldn’t afford a half-decent attorney, but they hoped for the best. Denis was fresh out of law school, but he was passionate, and he at least didn’t look at Gerard in disgust. He had some story about his sister being raped, but Gerard felt like he made it up just to sound personable.

Gerard kept stealing glances of Adam who stared at him like a rabid animal. It was frightening. He kept expecting Adam to lunge at him and humiliate him even more in the courtroom.

“Don’t worry,” Denis said. “If he does anything, it’ll just work against him.” Gerard nodded and looked over at Marcus. 

He wished Frank could stand beside him. He’d give anything to feel Frank’s support now after he’d been so cold that morning…

Gerard felt a swell of terror as the judge entered the room and took her seat. He’d never been in a place like this…when he had to testify against his master, he only needed to offer a verbal statement. There had been enough evidence against the man without his testimony, and enough alternative victims… Adam was the one who was supposed to be in trouble, but Gerard was the one who was intimidated.

There was even a jury—like a courtroom drama. Gerard was terrified and humiliated. He just wanted to go home. He didn’t want his personal life out in the open. 

Gerard suffered through the opening remarks, the attorneys talking to the judge and the judge making comments. Adam pled not guilty and Gerard just wanted to turn his face away and hide. He knew Adam would say he wasn’t guilty—all criminals did… But it felt like he was being called a liar, and no one liked liars…

But he wasn’t lying.

“Just stay calm,” Denis said when Gerard started shaking. Gerard was trying really hard not to cry. He turned to look over his shoulder at Frank who sat in the row of seats behind him and stared until Frank offered him a smile. 

Gerard thought he was going to have a panic attack when he was told to approach the bench. He shook when he was sworn in and almost threw up when he saw how many people actually showed up to his trial. There were reporters—they knew his name, heard of the case, and now they were hear to smear his story across the news stations.

He was asked to tell the jury what happened in his townhouse, but found words hard to form as Adam stared at him and grinned. It wasn’t just the assault that Adam fed off of—it was trauma he left over. 

Gerard started with Adam coming to his door and how he’d opened it, but left the chain lock drawn. His attorney sent photos of the damage to the judge’s chair, and then flashed a few of the photos to the jury. He found it hard to describe his own weakness and failure with Adam standing there smirking at him remorselessly, so he chose to stare at the wood of the bench. 

“I tried to keep fighting, but he would shove me and punch me, and he finally cornered me in the bedroom.” Gerard started fighting the nausea as he told them everything from the start of the rape to Bob coming in to rescue him.

His attorney questioned him lightly, and then opened up for the defense to cross-examine him…terrify him.

“Isn’t it true that you knew it was my client on the other side of the door before you even opened it?” Gerard answered yes and glanced down at Adam who was starting to laugh. He looked insane. “And isn’t it true that you _knew_ your relationship with my client was, shall we say, less than agreeable?”

“Yes,” Gerard answered. 

“So why did you open the door?”

“Because he said if I didn’t he would go home and hurt Marcus.”

“And who is Marcus?” Gerard didn’t know how to answer that. “Who is Marcus?”

“Answer the question, Mr. Way,” the judge said.

“Marcus is the man that lives with him…we lived together before. With David Miles.”

“When the three of you were held captive?” Gerard said yes. The jury already knew their backstory. “And you were willing to put yourself in danger to protect Marcus, a man you haven’t seen in years?”

“Yes,” Gerard muttered. 

“And isn’t it possible that you _let_ my client take you to your bedroom because you believed it would stop him from possibly hurting Marcus?”

“No!” Gerard said. “I didn’t even _think_ about Marcus then! That was my house! _My bed!_ ”

“So you didn’t ask my client after he was in your home, to stay away from Marcus?”

“No,” Gerard said. “I told him to stay away from my dogs—we have two dogs—and I told him to leave them alone. He said—Adam said if I didn’t do what he wanted he would attack Marcus, and at that point, since he was in the house, I told him that I knew he would anyway and that I wasn’t going to do what he said.” The attorney continued to interrogate him, and the more questions he asked, the more Gerard realized that Adam had no case against him at all. There was no way Adam could win. The only thing the defense had in their corner was the time Gerard had mentioned that he would do whatever Adam wanted. “I said that because he threatened to hurt Frank. He said he would rip him to pieces.”

Gerard started becoming choked up and buried his face in the palms of his hands. The thought of someone hurting Frank…the thought of what happened to him happening to Frank was devastating. When he started sobbing, he was excused from the stand and Bob was called up. Gerard made a point not to look at him and not to speak to him. He was humiliated.

“Can you tell the jury what happened when you came to the plaintiff’s townhouse?”

Bob started to tell his story and Gerard trembled and sat with his head in his hands at his side of the courtroom.

“Is it possible, Mr. Bryer, that you walked in on a love affair gone wrong and misunderstood what you saw?”

“No,” Bob said firmly. “Gerard’s wrist was broken, his nose was broken, and he was screaming for _that man_ to get off of him.” The defense had very little to say to Bob, and when they tried to spin things in Adam’s favor, Denis started showing photos of the damage to the apartment to the jury, as well as photos of the bruises on Gerard’s face and body after the attack.

Then, the called Marcus to the stand as a character witness, and tried to use him to bring human emotions to the mad man that sat in front of them.

“Adam and Gerard hated each other when we lived in Miles’ house,” Marcus said. He spoke slowly and looked down when he talked. He licked his lips a lot and cleared his throat a lot. “They got in a lot of fights, and it was usually Gerard who started them.”

“So you’re saying it’s possible that the plaintiff _instigated_ my client to attack him?”

“Yes,” Marcus said. “Without a doubt. Gerard is _mean,_ he’s a _liar,_ and I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to attack Adam when all Adam wanted was to apologize for the tension between them before.”

Gerard started at Marcus feeling devastated even though he _knew_ that Marcus was being controlled. Marcus _loved_ him…they used to _kiss_ when Master was gone…

Marcus’s accusations didn’t seem to stick with jury.

When it was Adam’s turn to approach the bench, Gerard refused to make eye contact with him. Adam grinned like a Cheshire cat and was practically purring in his seat at the bench.

“Your Honor,” Adam’s attorney drawled. “My client was kidnapped when he was only a child. He was held captive and forced to do _unspeakable_ things. Abuse such as that can cause long-term psychological effects. As far as home life is concerned, my client knows little more than violence.”

Gerard swallowed hard, starting to feel sick to his stomach. He didn’t want to discuss this. Not with Frank behind him and Bob listening to every word. Gerard put his head in his hands and tried to block out the words. Denis pleaded that the narrative was irrelevant, and that other victims of abuse didn’t resort to rape and assault to vent. Adam told a few sob stories, and then fed a line of bullshit about feeling that he and Gerard were family, and all he wanted was to have his _friend_ home with him.

“You Honor, when I want to invite a friend over, I don’t kick their door in and break their wrist,” Denis said. “Mr. King—Marcus—even said that my client and the defendant have been enemies for years. Nothing about this event screams ‘friendly intentions.’”

The trial drug on for another forty-five minutes before the jury went to deliberate. While they were out, Frank crept over to Gerard’s side and offered him a hug that Gerard buried himself into. He was tired…he just wanted to go home.

When the jury returned, Adam was found guilty on all charges, including breaking and entering and assault.

( ) ( ) ( )

Bob tried to approach Gerard after the trial, but he’d no less than run away. Frank just shrugged and followed after him, leaving Bob confused and almost angry that Gerard acted like he had no time for him after he’d come to testify on his behalf. He could understand that Gerard was ashamed, but he didn’t need to act like a fool.

It wasn’t like he was going to harass him and demand answers and his life story—he just wanted to reassure him that it was over, and that after sentencing that psycho wouldn’t hurt him again.

Details about Gerard’s personality were starting to fit, and Bob felt more and more like an asshole when he realized that this assault was one of hundreds for Gerard. He’d apparently been kidnapped and held hostage with those two other guys…

It was no wonder he had stage fright and freaked out all the time. It was no wonder everyone tip-toed around him. Bob just wished someone had given him a _clue_ instead of being so mysterious. He would’ve been nicer if he’d known that Gerard’s life was hell and that he wasn’t just an attention-whore. 

He wouldn’t have told Gerard to break up with his boyfriend because they weren’t having sex, that was for sure…

It was like everyone wanted him to be the bad guy…Why had they all left him in the dark about this? All they had to say was “Gerard was kidnapped” or “Gerard was abused as a kid.” 

He wouldn’t have been so mean if he’d just known…

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard laid in Frank’s bed after the trial was over, still in his suit and tie. He trembled slightly, feeling cold…frozen. Before Adam had attacked him, Gerard had been desperate to see Marcus again. He _loved_ Marcus! They could’ve had something had their master not separated them. 

Marcus had never cared for Adam, so why were they living together? Why had Marcus told a courtroom full of people that he was a _liar_ and that he was mean. He’d never done anything mean to Marcus. How could Marcus humiliate him like that?

He thought they were at least _friends._

“Gerard?” Frank knocked on the door before he entered the room, even though it was _his_ room. Gerard didn’t feel like he belonged here. This was all a big mistake…

“Yeah?” Gerard asked. He rolled over and faced the door as Frank crept in and shut the door behind him.

“Are you okay?” Frank asked, sitting down beside Gerard on the bed. 

“Why did Marcus say those things?” Gerard asked. He knew Frank could read him, so there was no reason to hide the truth. 

“Because Adam controls him,” Frank whispered, petting Gerard’s shoulder. Gerard wished he’d keep his distance. “You know that.”

“But Marcus and I are friends. He _never_ talked about me like that to our master, and Adam is no master…”

“You don’t know that,” Frank whispered. “He could be perfectly filling that man’s shoes.”

“I respected Master…I could _never_ respect Adam.” Gerard sighed heavily and squirmed away from Frank’s touch.

“Gerard, in less than an hour he kicked in our door, broke your nose, your wrist… _destroyed_ our bathroom. Marcus doesn’t have a choice but to do what he says.”

“Adam is in jail now…he can’t hurt him.”

“You know that’s not how he thinks. You can’t judge him…”

“Why are you on his side?”

“I’m not,” Frank argued. “I just don’t want you to think that he meant it. He’s scared.” Gerard sighed and rolled onto his back in order to stare at the ceiling. “You were really brave today.”

“I feel like a coward. They turned me into a blubbering child…”

“If anything it helped your case, Gerard.”

“That doesn’t help me!” Gerard yelled, rolling over so his back was to Frank. “You think I want to live my life looking like a stupid, cry-baby child?”

“Gerard, you’re allowed to get upset. You know what happens to you when you try to hold it in…” 

Gerard growled softly, not wanting his past mistakes to blow up in his face.

“I said I was sorry…”

“I know—I wasn’t trying to attack you. I just want you to know that it’s _okay._ You can be sad…I’m here.” Frank laid down beside Gerard and started spooning him. Gerard hated it. He just wanted left alone. “You look good in your court-suit.”

“Well, don’t mess it up because it’s the only one I own.”

“I know, I know…” Frank sat up and finally gave Gerard his space. “Gerard?”

“What?”

“Do you love me?”

“Yeah…” Frank sighed quietly and then got off of the bed.

“I’m gonna help my mom with dinner,” he whispered, sounding a little broken. Gerard sighed with guilt and closed his eyes tight. 

He wasn’t meant to be in a relationship…he was meant to be held captive and die alone.


	11. Chapter 11

_Chapter 11_

Gerard collapsed down onto Frank’s bed heavily, angry and fuming. Fucking livid! He’d just come back from the sentencing—Adam got five years, a punishment that hardly seemed fitting—but that wasn’t why he was mad. No, he didn’t care that the court took pity on Adam because he was a victim and had been “corrupted” by crimes. No—he was _pissed_ because when he tried to talk to Marcus, the man _ran away._ He literally took off down the street at full sprint. Gerard knew better than to chase him—he didn’t want arrested—but all he’d wanted was to see if he was okay! He just wanted to ask Marcus how he’d been and if Adam had hurt him.

He wanted to ask why Marcus had said those horrible things about him at trial. Why did he call him a liar? Why did he say he was _mean_ when he never attacked anyone but Adam? And Adam had always started it first!

But no, Marcus took off down the street and Gerard was left standing on the stairs of the courthouse looking like an idiot. And Frank had given him _that look._ That stupid, irritating look that seemed to say “what about me?”

What, just because he was dating Frank he couldn’t have other friends? Frank was friends with Ray and Gerard didn’t get on his case about that!

“Gerard?” Frank called, slowly coming into the room. Gerard wished Frank would just give him his space.

“What?” Gerard growled.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Gerard grumbled, loosening his tie and then throwing it across the room in frustration. 

“That sentence was a joke,” Frank whispered, thinking Gerard was mad about that.

“Where does Marcus get off acting like I did something awful to him? I was _never_ mean to him! I _loved_ him!—and then he just runs off down the fuckin’ street!?”

Frank stared at him and started chewing on his bottom lip.

“He’s just scared…If Adam was supporting him, then he’s on his own now. And…someone else might be watching him, you never know.”

“He’s a bitch,” Gerard growled. “I hope he gets fucked on his way home.”

“That’s…Gerard, he’s _scared._ ”

“You don’t even know Marcus,” Gerard hissed. “He’s never treated me this way. I thought he was my friend!”

“Gerard…” Frank let out a breath that seemed to catch in his throat, and looked like he needed to say something, but kept biting it back.

“What?” Gerard snapped.

“Nothing,” Frank whispered, lowering his head and looking around at his bedroom floor. “I just…It’s nothing,” Frank said, backing back out of the room. “I’ll…I’ll give you your space.”

Gerard sighed once Frank was gone…now he just felt guilty. Why did Frank always have to be so sensitive? Everything didn’t revolve around him…

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard spent about three hours on the internet before he finally found what he was searching for. Privacy was an illusion, but the government did do a good job of making it look like it was real. No matter what he did to find Marcus and Adam’s address, he got nothing but NYC. That did not even help—didn’t they realize how many neighborhoods were in the city?

Eventually, he found that they were living in Brooklyn. Although that narrowed it down some, Brooklyn was still massive. He dug until he finally found a docket sheets for a traffic violation of all things. Adam had failed to pay speeding ticket, and then missed his court date. The tiny little document listed the full details of his crime, Adam’s full name, and his home address. The lucky prat lived in Bay Ridge. It was nice…nicer than a lot of places in Brooklyn at least…

Gerard went far enough to search their address and get a picture of their house. Apparently they stretched out their settlement money from David Miles the millionaire and bought themselves a nice, historical home. 

It made him sick to think that Adam lived better than he did… Adam didn’t deserve nice things. He deserved what he got—a nice, shared, prison cell. And Gerard really hoped he got raped like hell in jail.

“What are you working on?” Frank asked, sitting down beside Gerard on the bed. Gerard closed his laptop quickly and set it aside. “Sorry,” he said, laying back and sighing deeply.

“I’m going to go out tomorrow.”

“Are you…going to apply at the diner?” Frank asked. Gerard didn’t get upset. He knew he needed a job, and he didn’t blame Frank for being concerned about it. 

“Not tomorrow,” Gerard said. “I think I’m applying somewhere else. I don’t want to work with food.”

“Okay,” Frank said, sounding let down that his boyfriend didn’t want to work with him. To Gerard, that would just be too much time in each other’s faces. “Where are you going to go?” Frank asked quietly.

“I’m going to go see Marcus,” Gerard said, not bothering to lie. “I want answers from him.”

“Can’t…Can’t I go with you? I mean…I worry when you’re on your own.”

“No!” Gerard snapped. “I want my space—I don’t need you spying on me!”

“Okay,” Frank said quietly. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever,” Gerard grumbled. “Just…stay out of my way.”

Frank lowered his head and nodded. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard pounded on the door until it opened. He could see Marcus peering out at him through the crack and he restrained himself from barging in. That would be counterproductive. He wanted Marcus to let him in, not scare him into allowing him inside.

“Marcus…I want to talk to you,” Gerard said, keeping his voice calm.

“I-I…I can’t talk to you, Gerard,” Marcus said, starting to shut his door. Gerard stepped closer, but didn’t touch the door.

“Wait—please! Marcus…I just want to talk to you.”

“I can’t,” Marcus whispered. “Please, go away!”

“Marcus, no one’s going to hurt you—just let me in!”

“Fine,” Marcus whispered, pulling the door open just enough for Gerard to come inside, and then promptly locking it again once he was in. “Just…don’t stay long. And don’t tell Adam.”

“I’m _not_ going to visit Adam in jail,” Gerard muttered, staring at Marcus who cowered against the closed front door. “Marcus, why are you hiding like that?” Gerard asked, watching as his former friend pressed his face up against his closed door as if trying to somehow pass through it.

“Don’t push me,” Marcus muttered. 

“I’m not…But, Marcus, what happened to you? We were friends!”

“Gerard, I live with _Adam,_ ” Marcus said, turning to face him. He looked terrified. “What do _think_ happened to me? I have _no family_ left alive. I had no home, nowhere to go, and Adam got a place and said I could stay. So I gave him my settlement and I now I’m stuck here—please leave before someone tells him.”

“Who is spying on you?” Gerard asked, stepping closer to him and looking deep into his eyes. Marcus looked like a cornered animal…Gerard fathomed that he couldn’t have looked much different when Frank had taken him home.

He felt guilty thinking about Frank at a time like this.

“I don’t know,” Marcus whispered. “Why don’t…we sit…in the living room.” Marcus walked away from the front door and started towards the back of his home, the hardwood floors creaking under his feet. The house was old, but well-kept. It was better than anything Gerard could ever afford. He wished he’d be sentient enough to testify against his master so that he could’ve gotten a slice of that settlement…but no, he’d been too busy pretending that none of it had happened.

“So…what happened after I left?” Gerard asked. Marcus sat down on a plush couch that fit the style of the old house too well. It looked like an old grandmother’s house. Not the house of two men. Gerard took a seat in a straight-backed chair across from his friend, but found it horribly uncomfortable.

“That’s Adam’s chair,” Marcus whispered. Gerard didn’t hesitate to stand up. He crossed the carpeted floor and sat down beside Marcus on the couch, giving him enough space to not feel threatened. There was a fireplace in the room, but no television. There were house-keeping magazines, but no books. 

“What happened?” Gerard asked again.

“Master chose Joshua over me, too. Then he got really paranoid one day and started beating me a lot,” Marcus said as his voice started to shake. He stared at the dark fireplace with wet eyes and took in a trembling breath. “Then…he would rape me, and…yell at me. And he pushed me down the stairs and broke my arm because he said I was making phone calls. I _never_ touched his phone. We weren’t even allowed to clean his phone.”

Marcus started sobbing and covered his face. 

“Adam protected me. He reset my arm and took care of me, I know he’s _mean._ I know he has so much _hate,_ but he loved me. I mean…he _loved_ me. You left and…Master got mean.”

“How did you get out?” Gerard asked quietly. It hurt him to see Marcus falling apart. He knew how he felt, and he only wished Marcus could have had someone like Frank to save him instead of Adam. Adam didn’t give Marcus a chance at a normal life.

“One day,” Marcus started. “Master locked us in the bedroom and kept talking on the phone. He wouldn’t say what was wrong…Then he let us out and it was like, maybe two in the morning. He told Joshua to start making dinner. It was strange. He wouldn’t let me or Adam move from the table. He just kept staring at us. Then Joshua finished making dinner and…Master killed him. Right there. Right in front of the table, and then made us eat dinner like nothing happened.” Marcus stared emptily at the fireplace. His face was pale and his lips had gone dry. “That was when the cops showed up and took Master away.”

“What happened then?” Gerard asked, scooting closer and resting his hand on Marcus’s knee to comfort him. 

“They took us to the hospital and…they touched me…” Marcus closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. “I knew no one would want me then…Adam wouldn’t let them near him. Then they took us in to the police station and started making us answer questions and…and Master wasn’t there and I didn’t know what to say.” Marcus sobbed into is hands and started shaking. “They got mad at me, and Adam heard me crying and broke in and stopped them. Then they put us in some shitty housing until the court case. They kept saying you would be there, but you never came…Where were you?”

“I repressed my memory of it…I didn’t know it was ended.” Gerard scooted closer and put an arm around Marcus’s shoulders. He loved holding him close. It was nice to be the one offering comfort instead of the one receiving it. 

“Where did you go?” Marcus asked softly.

“When he sold me, the guy who bought me was there by mistake. He turned me over to the police and…that’s why Master got caught.”

“Where is he now?” Marcus asked softly.

“I live with him,” Gerard mumbled.

“Why? Didn’t he give you away?”

“The world doesn’t work like that, Marcus,” Gerard mumbled. “He couldn’t keep me. He did what he had to…even though it wasn’t what I wanted. I _wanted_ to stay with him.”

“Don’t you just stay with him because he bought you? Just like Adam bought me with our house?” Marcus looked at him with red-rimmed eyes and then stared at the hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t…” The words made Gerard think. Why _was_ he with Frank? He’d left him before, why had he gone back? Didn’t that initial attraction start because he was his master? Didn’t that feeling come back because there were still residual feelings of property and submission left in him? After all, before he’d found Frank again, he’d let men do horrible things to him. He’d sleep with anyone to keep them for a night. He’d let them hit him, and then come back the next night for more.

Was his relationship with Frank based on nothing more than ownership? 

Gerard just didn’t know…

“Why are you here?” Marcus asked quietly.

“I loved you,” Gerard mumbled. 

He felt guilty for being here. What was he doing here with his arm around Marcus when he had Frank at home?

“You came to take me…” Marcus whimpered. “Please don’t,” he added, closing his eyes tightly. “Adam will know—he’ll never forgive me.”

“Adam won’t know anything if you don’t tell him,” Gerard stated, not sure what he was fighting for. Did he _want_ to cheat with Marcus? Why was he _here?_

“Please, Gerard!” Marcus pleaded, pulling back when Gerard tried to hug him. “Please!” Marcus cried out in fear and Gerard let him go. It was terrible…Why had Master abused them so much when the effects were so heartbreaking to watch?

“Marcus, you loved me,” Gerard murmured. 

“I did, but…Gerard, I’m with Adam!” Marcus looked at him with terror and quickly scrambled up from the couch. 

“Adam’s in jail now…”

“I’m sorry for what he did, but taking me won’t make it better,” Marcus pleaded, backing away as if Gerard were threatening him. He didn’t want to force Marcus’s hand…he wanted Marcus to _want_ him. “Please, go home. Please!”

“Marcus…I’m not here to _take_ you,” Gerard said, getting up from the couch. “I just wanted to see that you were okay…I care about you. You’re my friend.” Marcus stared at him, not believing a word. 

“What do you want me to do?” Marcus whispered, lowering his gaze to the floor. With literally no effort, he was already submitting himself. 

It was tempting…it was evil. He could really kick Adam while he was down if he took Marcus…Adam would hate it, and he would never have to know if Marcus didn’t tell.

But Marcus was a _human._ He wasn’t a toy that Gerard could just play with.

And he had _Frank!_ What the hell was he thinking?

“Marcus…I just want you to kiss me again—like we used to when Master wasn’t home.”

“Then will you leave?” Marcus asked, looking at him with large eyes. Marcus was taller than him, but he looked so small. 

“Yeah,” Gerard whispered. 

It wasn’t an affair if it was just a kiss. And he swore, after this, he’d never go near Marcus again. Marcus was too damaged and Gerard didn’t have the energy to repair him. He was still a slave, and he would probably die as one when Adam got out of jail.

“Okay,” Marcus whispered, coming closer to Gerard and taking a deep breath before tilting his head down and pressing a kiss to Gerard’s lips. He tried to pull back, but Gerard grabbed him back the back of the head and crushed their mouths together. Their kiss had all of the passion his life had been lacking. Marcus knew what to do and didn’t know how to hold back. They ran their tongues across each other’s and slowly Marcus began to moan. 

Gerard started to pull him towards the couch and Marcus obeyed. He broke the kiss long enough to lay Marcus down and crawl over him. Marcus mewled softly when Gerard ran a hand under his shirt, and then pressed their lips together firmly.

Slowly, Gerard started pushing up Marcus’s shirt, but stopped when the man sunk his teeth into Gerard’s lower lip.

“Ow!” Gerard pulled back and sat up, straddling Marcus’s hips and touching his fingers to his lip. There wasn’t any blood, but the spot started to swell. “Marcus?”

“What?” Marcus asked, laying still but starting to look fearful. He was trained…Gerard suddenly felt sick.

What the fuck was he doing? What about _Frank!?_

“I have to go,” Gerard said, getting off the couch and backing away. Marcus sat up slowly, looking confused and rejected. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Marcus asked. Once he’d been touched, his inhibitions were dissipated. He didn’t know how to refuse touch after it started. He was trained to submit to anything. Gerard could have brandished a hot poker and told him to take it, and—though he would scream and beg for Gerard to change his mind—Marcus would’ve submitted to it.

“I have to go,” Gerard repeated, touching the swelling part of his lip and wondering what he’d tell Frank. God, what had he done? “Goodbye, Marcus…”

Gerard practically fell out the front door after fumbling with the locks as Marcus lay on the couch, frozen by confusion. He was barely to his car on the curb before Marcus had broken free from his stupor and had the door relocked. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank watched the way Gerard walked as he approached the house. He looked anxious and nervous, and kept wringing his hands as he fumbled with his keys. Frank wasn’t stupid…he knew.

“Welcome back,” Frank heard his mother say when Gerard came in downstairs. Frank stayed at his bedroom window and closed his eyes tightly. 

“Where’s Frank?” Gerard asked. 

“Oh, he’s in his room.” She whispered something, and Frank was sure she was warning him that his boyfriend ‘seemed sad.’ Of course he was sad. His boyfriend had left to go see another man.

He listened to Gerard come up the stairs and sat down on his bed, looking over the real estate pages he’d printed out. 

He had a place picked out…

“Frank?” Gerard called. It was Frank’s third tip that something was wrong. Gerard was never cautious around him anymore. Gerard was angry and aggressive…because Gerard didn’t love him anymore. 

“Hey,” Frank said quietly, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. He looked up as Gerard appeared in the doorway. He was fidgeting and his lips were red and swollen. Frank lowered his eyes quickly so Gerard wouldn’t see him start to cry.

“Um…what are you…what are you looking at?”

“Apartments,” Frank mumbled, shifting through the papers on his bed even though he knew which one was best.

“I…I thought we were getting another—”

“What happened to your lip?” Frank asked, still staring at the pages. He felt tears well in his eyes, but he blinked them back. His throat was starting to tighten, but he refused to break. Not now…not like this.

“It…”Gerard stammered a few times, but soon realized it was in vain. “Frankie, nothing happened!” Frank closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. “Really—it was only a kiss. It was just a kiss, please. Please, don’t be mad—I’m _sorry!_ ”

“It’s fine,” Frank whispered. “I understand.” Yes. He understood. Gerard didn’t want him anymore. 

“Frank,” Gerard murmured, sitting down at the foot of the bed nervously. 

Frank didn’t answer him. He focused on swallowing back the painful lump in his throat and tried desperately not to let his lip quiver or his tears spill over. He wasn’t going to cry—he wasn’t going to let his pain spill over and guilt Gerard into faking even more feelings.

“These are all…really small apartments, Frank,” Gerard said, starting to sound panicked. “Frank?”

“They’re for me,” Frank mumbled. 

“ _Frank,_ ” Gerard cried, grabbing up the pages and looking over them as if he expected him to be joking.

“Gerard…face it. We’re…It’s _over,_ okay?” The tears started falling as soon as Frank’s voice cracked. Sadness didn’t even cover the pain he was feeling. It felt like someone tore his heart out and was cauterizing the wounds with hot metal. 

“What? N-no, Frank—No, wh-what are you talking about?” Gerard asked, pushing the pages of apartments onto the floor and trying to scoot closer to Frank on the bed. Frank just stood up and crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep his heart protected from the pain it was already in. It couldn’t possibly get worse.

“Gerard, you don’t love me… I’ve known—I’ve known it for a-a long time and…” Frank turned his face away towards the wall and raised a hand to wipe away the tears on his face.

“No,” Gerard cried. “Please, Frank—just listen! I-I kissed him, but it didn’t mean anything. Nothing happened—really!”

“Stop,” Frank whispered. “If you wanted to be with me, you wouldn’t…you wouldn’t have gone there.” Frank inhaled shakily and tried to keep his composure even though it felt like his life was falling apart. 

He should’ve seen it coming though…really. Gerard and Marcus were the same sort of person. They understood each other. They…belonged together.

“Frank, I don’t want to be with him!” Gerard cried, tears falling down his face. He wrung his hands together desperately. “It was a mistake—I’m sorry! Please don’t go…”

“Gerard, you don’t love me,” Frank said, closing his eyes tight.

“Yes I do,” Gerard called.

“You don’t love me!”

“Yes I do!” Gerard shouted. “Please, Frank!”

“No you don’t!” Frank cried. “It’s _over_ okay? We…we don’t belong together, and…and we need to stop trying to make it work, because it _won’t._ ”

“It was a mistake,” Gerard pleaded, going to Frank and falling to his knees as if it would somehow make him look more sincere. Frank couldn’t understand, and it was hurting him to see Gerard like this. He wanted to take it all back—he wanted to shake his head and make the pain go away and show him the townhouse he’d found—but that wasn’t what needed to happen. Gerard _didn’t want him._ Gerard stopped loving him when he found out who they really were, and it was never going to be like it was.

Gerard left him the first time because he didn’t love him anymore. Frank had no right to force them back together again…

“Yeah,” Frank whispered. “ _This_ was a mistake,” he said, gesturing to the two of them.

“But…Frank, I…What am I supposed to do?” Gerard asked, sobbing softly and slumping back further on the floor. 

“Move back in with Mikey,” Frank whispered. “Or…or your parents,” he added, choking. “But you can’t…stay here anymore. You…you need to go.”

“Frank, please don’t do this—I didn’t mean to!” Gerard begged.

“You need to go,” Frank said. It was all for Gerard’s own good. He could never be happy with him…they weren’t meant to be together.

“Frank—”

“ _Go!_ ” Frank yelled, residual anger tearing through his heartbreak. 

“Frank, please!” Gerard cried, biting his lip which was already bruised. 

“Get _out!_ ” Frank cried, starting to sob. Gerard got to his feet and tried to argue, but Frank turned him away. The sadness Gerard was showing _wasn’t real._ Gerard didn’t love him—Gerard had _never_ loved him. He just saw him as a keeper and protector…they should never have made it physical, because whatever feelings Gerard had had for him were closer to those a child would have for a parent.

“Frank, _please!_ ” Gerard sobbed.

“Go!” Frank said. “Please, just go.” Frank closed his eyes tightly and tried not to listen as Gerard shuffled around their room, grabbing a few of his things before hesitating at the doorway and then disappearing down the stairs.

Frank sobbed when he heard the front door open and then close slowly. He sank to his floor when Gerard’s car door slammed and the engine started. 

He loved Gerard so much… He wanted to run to the window and frantically call him back, but what end? Gerard didn’t want to be with him. He just wanted security. Gerard didn’t _love him._ He loved Marcus, and they deserved to be together…

Frank cried out in pain and folded into himself on the floor. It felt as if someone was stabbing him through the chest—skewering his heart and leaving him in agony. He almost died the first time Gerard had left him…he didn’t know what he was supposed to do now. He built his life around Gerard…Was it really possible for all of it to be over?


	12. Chapter 12

_Chapter 12_

Gerard sat in his car shaking, hardly feeling his hands as he turned the key and started to drive. He knew he shouldn’t…he knew he should go back inside and explain _everything_ to his lover and his boyfriend and the love of his entire life…he knew he shouldn’t drive when he was crying too hard to even be able to see. 

But Frank wanted him gone. Frank had a reason to want him gone…

His fingers buzzed as he clutched onto the steering wheel. Where was he supposed to go? He didn’t _want_ to go home to his parents—he didn’t want to become a burden to his brother again. 

One mistake and he’d ruined _everything_ he’d ever wanted. He felt so stupid…how could he take Frank for granted? Didn’t he _know_ that Frank was perfect? Frank put up with everything from his nightmares to his fears…no one else would ever treat him like Frank did. No one else would find him worth the trouble.

Gerard drove around the block twice, not sure if he wanted to try to go back to Frank or if he was just hoping the feeling that he was going to faint would pass before something went wrong.

The feeling didn’t leave and Gerard just kept crying as he drove away from Frank’s mother’s house and drove in a straight path, not caring when the houses turned to apartments and the apartments gave way to the projects…he was cold and he was scared, and it didn’t really matter if someone shot him for his car. 

What kind of life did he have now?

He’d thrown everything away. He’d never deserved Frank’s love or compassion. 

Gerard sobbed hard and lowered his head to his steering wheel, closing his eyes for a few brief seconds before looking back up at the street. 

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, even though no one who mattered could hear him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry—Frank, I’m sorry.”

The sky started turning dark and Gerard was forced to turn once the road of warehouses gave way to a gravel drive into a landfill. He wanted to drive straight ahead, but couldn’t. He was stupid and he was afraid to die.

Gerard was able to stop crying briefly, but the pauses didn’t last long. He usually spent the moments of peace trying to catch his breath and grasping for words to say to Frank to make this whole thing go away.

Actual screams started tearing themselves from Gerard’s throat as the sky turned pitch black. There were too many clouds for the moon to even glow. He wanted Frank. His vision was starting to turn splotchy and specked with flashes of blue lights. Gerard started gasping, unable to cry anymore no matter how badly his soul was hurting. 

All of a sudden, what was blue in his vision started flickering green, and the splotches expanded to take over more of his sight. 

“Fuck,” Gerard whispered, looking around anxiously through the dark and flashing lights, his breath speeding up even though he knew that would make it worse. “Frank…Frank, please…” He pleaded to someone who couldn’t hear him, but through the flashing lights that turned from green to yellow as they closed in on his sight, Gerard managed to make out a sign for Wal-Mart. He was sure he’d run traffic lights and stop signs, but no one was out this late at night. 

He managed to pull into the parking lot after nearly crashing into a traffic sign, and stopped his car just as his vision turned white with flickering outlines where some fixtures in his line of view should be…

Gerard closed his eyes tight and took his key from the ignition. He unbuckled his seat belt and felt around the center console between the driver’s and passenger’s seats and no less than fell into the back of his car. 

He laid down across the back seat, not paying any mind to the seatbelt buckles that dug into his back, or the uneven lumps caused by the blanket he’d thrown in the back.

Gerard cried quietly and tried to keep his breathing even at the same time. He opened his eyes and found the green splotches dancing around his vision again and just squeezed his eyes closed again. He’d have to wait it out…he’d just have to wait it out—like Frank. He would wait until tomorrow, then he’d go back and ask Frank to love him again, because he was sorry. He was so, so sorry.

When his vision was merely fuzzy, Gerard shifted in order to wrap himself up in the blanket and push the seatbelt buckles out of his sides. He pulled the blanket over his head when the chill in the air started getting to him, and slowly he fell into a stiff and dreamless sleep.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard woke up with a runny nose and more stiff muscles than he could count. He felt lightheaded when he sat up, and he had to keep the blanket around his shoulders to keep from shaking harder. He hadn’t realized that it was so cold…

Trembling, he leaned towards the front seat of his car and picked up his cell phone which sat in his cup holder. He closed his eyes tightly as he unlocked the screen and prayed, _prayed_ that he at least had a text or a missed call from his lover…

But there was nothing. 

Gerard tossed his phone against the back of the passenger’s seat and started crying again. Why didn’t Frank call? Didn’t he know how sorry he was?

“He’ll never forgive me,” Gerard cried to himself, pulling his knees up to his chest in a desperate attempt to keep warm and comfort himself. “He’ll never forgive me—never, never…Frank.” Gerard tried to scream, but his voice got stuck and tore at his throat. 

Gerard didn’t move for what felt like hours. The sun moved from glinting off of his windshield to boring through his side windows. The rays of sun began heating him, and he lowered his feet from the seat. 

It was cold…he was hungry.

For the first time, Gerard surveyed his surroundings. He was parked diagonally across a row of parking spots, but he was far enough back from the shopping center that no one was affected by it. All the other cars were parked close to the doors of the building and Gerard was just barely in the lot. 

There was a McDonald’s across the street, and a Subway sat beside it…But there was a TacoBell just across the parking lot and Gerard felt that that was as far as his legs could carry him.

Gerard felt his pocket for his wallet and found it. There were two twenties and a five—enough to keep him fed until he decided where to go. He didn’t want to go to his parents’ house, and he didn’t want to live with Mikey…

He _had_ nowhere to go…not unless Frank decided to call him and ask him to come back home. 

As soon as he gathered enough energy, Gerard scooted over towards his car door and opened it slowly. He extended one of his stiff legs and placed his foot firmly on the pavement. Once he got to his feet, his knees gave out at once and he collapsed onto his hands and knees in the parking lot. His left palm was less than inches away from a broken piece of glass. 

The air was cold and stale. It felt like early morning, but he knew it was later than that. Slowly, he picked himself back up and leaned on his car door for support when his vision went splotchy again. The blue patches disappeared slowly, and Gerard closed his car door and started limping towards the TacoBell. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard moved his car so it was parked in an actual space after he’d forced himself to eat half a soft taco and take three sips from his watery Pepsi. He sat in the driver’s seat, watching as his phone’s battery flashed red and then died…no one texted him, and no one called. 

The sky started turning dark again and Gerard knew he was alone.

He crawled back into the backseat and wrapped himself up in his blanket and made himself finish off the taco. Gerard sniffed as the tears hit him again. He wanted Frank to call him or come find him, but that wasn’t going to happen. He’d let everything fall apart for no reason.

Why did he chase after Marcus when Frank was _right there_ loving him and doting on him? Why had he ruined everything? 

Gerard leaned his head against the window and curled into a ball on the seat. It was so cold…Gerard made himself take a drink of the Pepsi that had turned flat and then let himself lie back down in the seat. 

He pulled the blanket over his head and rolled so his face was pressed into the back of the seat. The cold kept him trembling, but he only had one blanket…

It was really Frank’s blanket. He’d taken it from their townhouse last winter because he was afraid his car was going to break down and leave him stranded in the cold. 

“Here, take this one,” Frank said. He’d smiled and handed Gerard the green knit blanket. It was heavy and warm—not too soft and not too rough. “That way you’re warm and you can think of me while I come find you wherever you’re stuck.” 

Gerard sobbed and shivered from the cold. 

“Frankie,” he breathed into the seat. “Please—please, please…”

He closed his eyes tightly and screamed—not parting his lips to let it out, but wrecking his throat as his agony ate away at him. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank sighed and stacked the boxes of Gerard’s things up in the spare bedroom of his new, tiny apartment. It was smaller than he’d ever lived in, but he needed the change. Every other apartment reminded him of the place he’d had when he and Gerard first met…

Pig and Bear were sleeping on the old couch, retrieved from storage like every other large piece of furniture. They seemed sad to have Gerard gone, but they’d never really recovered from the break in. 

He knew he couldn’t keep Gerard’s things here, and he’d been expecting Mikey to come get the boxes. He’d been putting off calling, but now he had no choice. He wasn’t going to keep his ex-boyfriend’s things…there was no purpose in that.

“Hey,” Frank said when Mikey _finally_ picked up the fucking phone. Frank had been trying to call him most of the day, but Mikey didn’t answer his calls anymore. Not since the break in. 

“What?” Mikey asked, sounding bored and agitated.

“You…didn’t come to get Gerard’s stuff,” Frank said, swallowing hard. It’d been almost a month.

“What are you talking about?” Mikey asked. Suddenly Frank felt his stomach drop and he sank down onto his couch. 

“Gerard…is—isn’t he with you?”

“No,” Mikey said, starting to sound concerned. “I thought he lived with _you._ What the hell are you talking about?”

Frank swallowed hard and stood back up. 

“We…we broke up…isn’t he with you?” Frank asked again, knowing it was hopeless. He was suddenly terrified, because if Mikey didn’t know where Gerard was, that meant he was missing.

“No, he’s not with me! He won’t answer my calls—what the fuck do you mean you _broke up?_ You honestly let him leave? What the fuck is your problem!? He was _attacked,_ you asshole!”

Frank lowered the phone from his ear and sank his teeth into his lip. Where would he go? He knew that if Gerard went to his parents’ then Mikey would know about it…and he wasn’t with Ray or Bob…Where did he go? He didn’t have money for a hotel.

Was he on the street? Did he go to Marcus? 

No…he would’ve called someone if he was with Marcus. He was on the street.

“He’s missing,” Frank choked into the phone.

“No shit,” Mikey hissed. “Where’d he go?”

He was on the street where anyone could grab him and hurt him. What if he was selling himself again? What if he sold himself to pay for a hotel?

What if he was sleeping in his car? It had turned so cold…he couldn’t live in a car, he’d get sick—he’d _die._

“He drove off—I thought he moved in with you,” Frank said, starting to cry.

“Don’t fucking weep in my ear,” Mikey hissed. “You let this happen! Fuckin’…God damnit, Frank! He could be fuckin’ anywhere by now!”

“H-he has his car,” Frank cried. “He has his car—if he’s living in his car it’s probably in…in a lot or something.”

“Why would he be living in his car? What the hell did you do to him, Frank!?”

“H-he’s gotta be in a parking lot,” Frank cried. “I’ll start looking at this end of town. Just look for his car—I’m sure we’ll find him,” Frank said, hurrying to find his keys and running towards his door once he had them.

“You’d better hope that we don’t cross paths, because I’m going to _fucking_ kill you,” Mikey shouted before hanging up the phone. Frank sobbed hard as he hurried down two flights of stairs and into the parking garage. 

“Please be okay,” he breathed, clutching the steering wheel of his car tightly and trying to catch his breath. “Please, please…” Frank thought of places to go—and started driving a path towards his mother’s house, going to every 24 hour store and restaurant to search for Gerard’s little silver car. 

He found nothing. He drove and drove and searched, but he found absolutely nothing.

( ) ( ) ( )

Mikey was livid by the time he reached the first store on his way out of town. He drove through every aisle of the parking lot and found nothing. It was hopeless. There were too many places in this stupid city—too many places in the neighboring towns… He could’ve gone to the city! He could be fucking anywhere!

He’d driven for over two and half hours before he ended up at another Wal-Mart, and he almost parked his car and grabbed his tire iron from the back seat when he saw Frank rushing around the rows of cars on foot. He was honestly prepared to beat the shit out of Frank for putting them through this.

First he breaks his promise, then he steals Gerard away from his house and his protection to get him _raped._ Then he turned him out to the streets without telling anyone…

_Fuck_ Frank! To Mikey, he deserved to die…

Taking his eyes off of Frank, Mikey started scanning the cars at his end of the lot. He spotted a silver car parked in its own little place beside an area of mulch and drove towards it slowly. 

He noticed the windows were fogged up and had frost on the windows and his heart nearly stopped in his chest.

That was Gerard’s car. He could recognize it by the rust patches all around the muffler. 

“Shit,” he hissed, parking a space down from his brother’s car and barely turning off his car before jumping out the door. Frank must have seen him, because he heard someone running towards him. He didn’t look up to see who it was, he tried to wipe the frost off the back windows so he could glimpse inside the car, but all of the frost was on the inside and he could barely see a thing. 

Just as Frank reached Mikey’s side at the car, Mikey managed to make out a form in the backseat of the car through a small space of clear glass between the top of the window and the large patch of frost.

“Gerard?” Mikey called, starting to knock on the window rapidly. It was fucking cold out—why was he sleeping in the back of the car?

“Gerard?” Frank mumbled. Mikey shoved him away furiously, not even feeling relief when the puny man fell to the ground. 

“Stay the fuck away from me,” Mikey seethed before returning to knocking on the window. His brother didn’t stir. “Shit,” Mikey hissed, knocking on the window harder and then grabbing for the door handles. They were all locked. 

But he had a spare—Mikey bolted back towards his own car and started digging through the glovebox, letting papers and other objects fall out onto the floor of his car and onto the ground. Finally, he seized the key he’d kept “just in case” when Gerard had first bought his car. 

“Move!” Mikey snapped when Frank got in his way of the car door. Frank backed away from him quickly and gave Mikey room to get the key in the lock of the front door. Once the door was open, he hit the button to unlock the rest of the door, not even wasting time on stealing a glance of the still form in the backseat. 

Mikey threw open the door to the backseat and Gerard didn’t even move. 

“Fuck,” Mikey gasped, running his fingers through his hair before reaching out to grab the green, knit blanket that was wrapped around the unmoving shoulders. Before he yanked it back, all he could see of his brother was a mess of hair. His face was buried in the blanket and the seat. “Shit,” Mikey whispered before finally tugging the blanket back. 

His brother didn’t move.

He heard Frank start panicking behind him, but couldn’t even feel anger. He was terrified—he was too afraid to reach out and touch one of the pale hands that his brother had folded against his colorless face. 

Mikey swallowed hard and leaned into the car. He touched the back of his fingers to his brother’s cheek and felt tears start to fall from his eyes uncontrollably. He was terrified—he was too afraid to know. He was too scared to check…

He would rather be uncertain than know his brother had died alone.

“Please,” Mikey whispered, moving his fingers to his brother’s neck and checking for a pulse. For a moment he felt nothing, his nerves teeming when he felt a small bit of warmth. Gerard didn’t move when he was touched, and Mikey closed his eyes tight, waiting for that pulse—that one pump to prove that he was alive and that they weren’t too late. “Please,” Mikey whispered again, squeezing his eyes shut tighter despite the tears that leaked past them. 

Then he felt it.

Suddenly, all of the feeling came rushing back to Mikey’s body and he started tearing off his coat. 

“Call an ambulance,” Mikey snapped. “He’s freezing.”

“Is he—”

“Call a _fucking_ ambulance!” Mikey screamed, wrapping the blanket back around Gerard’s body after laying his warm coat over his brother’s frigid shoulders. Gerard didn’t make a sound or even twitch. 

He closed the car door and got into the front seat, he grabbed for the key that he’d dropped on the floor and shoved it into the ignition. The car struggled to start, but finally roared back to life and Mikey started fumbling with the heater. It took almost five minutes for the air to turn warm, and once it was hot he turned the fan up full blast got back out of the car. 

Frank was sobbing into his cell phone, on the line with 911. He was trying to choke out his location, but Mikey didn’t bother to intervene because as soon as Gerard got warm, he _had_ to get better. 

Mikey got back into the backseat and shut the door behind him despite the heat becoming nearly overwhelming in the back of the car. He moved Gerard’s stiffened legs slightly so he could sit on the seat, and pulled back the blanket and coat so the heat could reach his body faster. 

“Come on, Gerard,” he whispered, rubbing Gerard’s shoulder and arm. His brother was on his side—pressed so far into the seat hoping for warmth that it was a wonder he could even breathe. 

Mikey chanced a glance at the dashboard to see if he was in danger of running out of gas, but the tank was half full. There was no reason to be sitting here in the cold…The car had gas and the battery was working…he’d stayed in the cold on purpose.

He’d been trying to die.

After nearly seven minutes of rubbing and shaking Gerard’s shoulder, his brother finally twitched. It was subtle, but Mikey felt it as if it had been a kick instead of small quiver across his face. 

“Gerard,” he called. His brother made a noise that was something like whimper, but it last less than a second and could barely be heard over the rushing of the fan. “Hang in there, okay?” Mikey said. “You’ll be alright.”

Mikey looked out the window that was wet instead of frosted and saw Frank leaning against his car sobbing like a child. 

Instead of anger, he felt sorry for him. It surprised him…he didn’t like it, so he turned his face back to Gerard who was starting to get color in his face. Finally, Mikey could hear his brother trying to breathe and knew immediately that something was wrong. His breaths were short, almost like gasps or wheezes. 

“Gerard?” Mikey called pulling his brother up slowly and holding him against his chest. Gerard’s body remained rigid. “Come on,” he whispered, holding Gerard’s head against his heart and praying for any god listening to be merciful. Let him live…give him another chance. “Come on, Gerard,” he whispered.

His brother choked out another tiny sound and began shivering despite the heat. Just then, someone started knocking on the window before the door was pulled open and cold air rushed in. The ambulance had come and Mikey hadn’t even heard the sirens. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard saw lights and he felt his body shaking. It had been a long time since he’d felt his body do anything. He’d been numb for days…or maybe weeks. He guessed he was dead, because all he saw was white and he was neither hot nor cold despite his shaking. 

There was a sheet or something over him, and he was afraid it was his death shroud…he was dead. It was over…

“Dr. Conroy, the patient is awake.”

Gerard opened his eyes a little further and saw light panels and a ceiling with dots…

Not dead. Freezing.

“Hello, Gerard,” a man said in a voice that seemed to loud. Gerard turned his head to the side and whimpered when the muscles in his neck protested. “No, no—it’s okay. Gerard, can you tell me what you remember?”

Gerard tried to say cold, but nothing came out of his throat. 

“Gerard, you had hypothermia. Your brother found you in your car.”

Gerard looked around the ceiling and then closed his eyes tightly. The lights hurt. It was all too bright. 

He fell back asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

_Chapter 13_

Gerard woke up again with more feeling in his limbs and less fogginess in his head. There were oxygen tubes under his nose, and unknown machines humming and beeping all around him. He turned his head from side to side, surveying his dim, empty room. No one was sitting by his side…no one was with him here.

Gerard blinked hard to get his eyes to stop hurting, and raised his hands to his face to rub the dried goo off of his eyelashes. The large plastic clip on his index finger slipped when it bumped against his forehead and the heart monitor attached to him started screeching until he readjusted the clip.

He looked over his hands and arms and shuddered when he saw a tube leading from his arm. There were needles in his skin and it was horrible. 

Slowly, he settled back down and laid his arms back down against the rough blanket. He felt dismal and wanted to be back in his car. He felt like he was practically dead now—maybe one more hour on the street and this would all have been behind him.

Just as he felt he was about to be asleep, he heard footsteps approach his bed and his eyes shot back open.

“It’s just me,” a female voice said.

“Me?” Gerard tried to repeat. His voice only cracked, but the word never really formed despite his efforts. Trying to talk made his breathless so he just shut up and let the woman check his machines.

“My name is Katelyn—I’m the night nurse.” Gerard nodded and stared up at the woman leaning over his bed. “You’re finally awake. Do you need anything?”

Gerard stared at her and tried to think quickly. Did he want something? To be dead…but that wasn’t going to happen here. If his status was critical, the doctor would have come when he woke up—right?

Gerard tried to tell her he was thirsty, but his voice would only gasp and croak. 

“Water?” The nurse asked. Gerard nodded his head and she left the room. He rested his head against the flattened pillow and waited for her to return. When she did, she had a cup with a long straw and set it on the table beside his bed. “I’ll help you sit up. Just be careful not to pull on the IV in your arm, okay?” Gerard nodded and let her support his back as he shifted himself up in the bed. She moved his pillows around and he was able to lean back against them without any pain. “You’ve got a few visitors sitting in the lounge. Would you like me to send them in?—are you up for visitors?” The nurse asked, handing him the cup and cradling his hand until she was sure he wouldn’t drop it. 

He felt humiliated here. He wasn’t supposed to become a burden—he was supposed to be something that needed buried in the ground. Now he was costing money and wasting everyone’s time.

Honestly, he was too ashamed for visitors, but if he refused them they would get mad at him…

“Visitors?” The nurse asked again. Maybe, Gerard hoped, Frank would be there and then they could talk and Frank would let him come home.

Gerard nodded to her and she took his empty cup with her when she left. As soon as she’d gone, he felt regret almost instantly. He didn’t want to see anyone—he was embarrassed and ashamed. Not only had he destroyed his life, now he’d made a joke of it. He sent the message that he couldn’t care for himself, and he was certain that he was going to be forced to live with his parents again if Frank didn’t take him back.

And he knew Frank would never, ever forgive him. He wanted to hide, but there was nowhere to go. He could barely breathe, let alone speak or move his body. All he could do was weep as the nurse came back to his room with another cup of water and an entourage.

( ) ( ) ( )

Mikey followed the nurse towards the hospital room where his brother was resting. He had been waiting to see him since they moved him out of the ER, but he’d never regained consciousness. It had been almost eleven hours that he’d been sitting in that cramped waiting room with Frank and his parents, and it took everything in him to not launch himself at Frank. 

If he could, he would tear Frank apart. This was _all_ Frank’s fault. If their relationship really had fallen to shit, he should’ve told him! He should’ve called and told him to expect Gerard so that when Gerard tried to hide himself, he would know and would’ve had a better chance of finding him alive! As it was, the doctors had said that less than an hour longer in the cold and Gerard would have died.

Frank would have killed his brother…

But he didn’t say a word about it because Frank, in that eleven hour time span, had barely stopped crying. He looked pitiful, and Mikey doubted that if he punched Frank in the face like he wanted to, Gerard would be able to look past it and explain why the hell he decided to live in his car.

Mikey stepped into the room following the nurse and spotted Gerard sitting up in the bed, his hair covering his face. Gerard was ashamed…it showed in every angle of his body.

Their mother pushed past Mikey and ambushed Gerard at the bed, pushing the hair away from his face and scanning him for injuries that he didn’t have. She seemed to think that he’d been attacked again. The only enemy Gerard had now was himself.

“Are you okay?” His mother asked, pulling him against her chest and hugging him even though he seemed like he were resisting her. The thing Mikey noticed above all was that Gerard would not look at Frank. He wouldn’t even look at the doorway where all of them stood. 

Frank had broken his heart, and Mikey knew now more than ever how determined Gerard had been to die in that car. Gerard didn’t need to say it. 

It was terrifying. Once he got out of this hospital, what was to stop him from going out and doing it all again? Sure, they could take his car keys, but then he’d set off on foot and freeze to death even faster. He could jump off a bridge into oncoming traffic—or plummet into freezing water. 

And even if they kept him trapped in his bedroom, he could easily just hang himself from the ceiling. 

“Move,” Mikey said, approaching the bedside and gently pushing his mother out of his way. He sat down at Gerard’s side and stared him dead in the face. His brother kept dropping the gaze, but Mikey was determined to keep it. “Look at me,” he said. “Gerard, look at me.” Gerard met his eyes and looked hopeless. “Promise me that you won’t do this to me again,” Mikey said, grabbing Gerard by the chin when he tried to look away. Everyone else was going to tiptoe around him, but Mikey couldn’t risk that. Forcefulness used to work with Gerard, and maybe it still did. “Don’t _ever_ do that to me again,” Mikey repeated when Gerard was silent. “ _Gerard._ ” Finally, his brother started nodding. The nurse had muttered that Gerard had trouble speaking, but a nonverbal answer was good enough for Mikey.

Their mother had hurried to the other side of the bed so she, too, could sit down beside Gerard and Mikey started to feel crowded. Mikey took in the look of humiliation and pain on his brother’s face and sighed. 

“Come here,” he said, pulling Gerard close to him in an embrace and pressing one hard kiss to the top of his head. It didn’t last long, but he hoped it was enough to show Gerard that someone still cared for him even if Frank didn’t. “I gotta go home, I’ve got work in the morning. Stay out of trouble,” Mikey said, talking to him like a small child, but there was no other way to see him. He’d lost his ability to care for himself and, to Mikey, that made him nothing more than a toddler. Helpless, lonely, and scared.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank wanted to approach Gerard at the bed, but he felt too guilty. Gerard wouldn’t look at him, and Frank didn’t know if his ex-boyfriend wanted him there or not. He still _loved_ Gerard, but Gerard wasn’t supposed to love him… Why had he done this to himself? Why hadn’t he gone back to Marcus? That was where he _wanted_ to be…

Gerard parents were at each of his sides, talking to him even though he didn’t answer, and Frank felt like a spectator just standing at the door. 

He was only here to make sure that Gerard was okay…and he was, so he needed to go. Gerard didn’t want him here. Why would he? It was _his_ fault that Gerard was in this position.

Frank felt himself grow weak from the shame and he backed towards the door. No one looked at him, and Gerard didn’t even glance at him when he slipped into the hallway and out of view.

Before he even reached his car in the parking garage, he was back in tears again. He couldn’t even get his key into the door before his grief overcame him. His body was wracked with sobs as he sank down onto the oil-stained concrete and he covered his face with his hands.

If he’d known Gerard was going to do this, he wouldn’t have turned him away. He thought he would go to Mikey—he didn’t think he would leave himself to die in the cold. Now it just looked like Frank didn’t care about him, and nothing was further from the truth.

He _loved_ Gerard—he wanted to be with him so badly, but Gerard _stopped_ loving him. Gerard didn’t want him anymore. 

At least that was what Frank had thought… But if Gerard stopped loving him, why would he lay down and _die_ of cold and hunger in the back of his car? 

Frank wiped his tears off onto his sleeves and tried to pick himself up off the ground. As soon as he got the key into his door, his chest started tightening and he barely made it into his seat before his knees gave out. 

If Gerard loved him, why had he gone to Marcus’s house and kissed him so much that he came home with swollen lips and bite marks? But if Gerard didn’t love him, why would he surrender himself to the cold? Did he just feel guilty, or did it run deeper than that?

Why wouldn’t Gerard look at him in the hospital? _Had_ he loved him, and then by turning him away and throwing him out into the cold, had he made Gerard hate him instead?

Frank laid his forehead against his steering wheel and sobbed. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Part of him wanted to run back up to the hospital room and beg Gerard to forgive him, but the rest of him just felt ashamed. If Gerard didn’t really want him, Frank didn’t want to force himself to be a part of his life. 

He just wanted Gerard to be okay. He loved him more than anything…

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard was trapped in the hospital for almost four days while his body fought off a lung infection brought on by the cold. He had to assure the doctors that he wasn’t trying to commit suicide in order to be checked out, but there was no chance for him to run away once he was released. His parents ushered him to their car and he had no say in where he was going to live now.

Frank didn’t even visit him in the hospital room, and Mikey had work. They were afraid to leave Gerard alone. It was probably a good thing…Gerard didn’t even trust himself. 

He didn’t know why they bothered keeping him alive. He was nothing but a burden. He should’ve died with his master…or even at Adam’s hands. 

As it was, Gerard had trouble even walking around the house when he got home. His joints were still incredibly stiff from how he had lain in the car for all those weeks. He was still getting lightheaded whenever he stood for too long, but he didn’t like to sit still. 

“Gerard, what do you want for dinner?” His mother asked. Gerard was sitting on the couch, his hands on his thighs and his eyes fixed blankly on the wall. “Anything in particular?”

It was still hard to speak, but not because he was sick. He was just thinking…remembering—longing.

He kept being drawn back to the couch with Marcus. He remembered the way it felt to have someone underneath him, complying with all of his demands. He remembered what Marcus tasted like, and how the skin of his chest felt under his hands. 

Gerard thought about how a few simple touches ruined everything. One simple gunshot could fix everything, too. Or one simple knot, or one cup of poison…but he couldn’t kill himself here. He didn’t even know if he had the courage to end it now.

Part of him wondered if he should try to move on, but he couldn’t see himself with anyone besides Frank. He missed Frank. He even missed their dogs. It was lonely here…He just wished he hadn’t taken Frank for granted…

He never knew Frank would actually leave him. Now he knew better and he didn’t think he would ever get forgiveness. The band—over. His chances of seeing Frank again—dashed. 

Gerard had nothing now.

He didn’t even want to try to get back on his feet. His life was a lost cause…he should’ve realized that when he was fifteen and high.

Gerard wanted to get high again…he wanted to feel just a little bit better even though there was nothing to be happy about. But he wouldn’t even know where to go to get drugs. With his luck, he’d step into the alley and get picked up by an undercover cop. 

If he wanted to get numb he was going to have to drink coffee or wait until his parents were asleep and raid their liquor cabinet. 

( ) ( ) ( )

He stumbled as he walked, but just kept moving. The green blanket that used to be in his car was wrapped around his shoulders and he did his best to keep it from dragging on the dirty streets. It had probably been two hours since he’d left his house, bottle of cheap bourbon in hand and his wallet in his pocket. He locked the door to his parents’ house when he left and forgot his keys, so he figured he’d just come back in the morning when they were awake and knock. He didn’t want to wake anybody up.

Gerard staggered and almost fell off of the cracked sidewalk, but was glad he caught himself when he saw a bunch of shattered glass on the side of the street. He looked up at a flickering streetlight and realized that he may have walked into the wrong part of town…but it didn’t matter. What would a robber take from him? His driver’s license and the three dollars left in his wallet? His mostly empty bottle of bourbon? His fucking blanket?

Taking another swig of the burning drink, Gerard swiped at his face with the blanket and thought of Frank. Frank had turned him away and didn’t even come to see him in the hospital. Frank didn’t even drop in to say hi or hear him out that what happened with Marcus was a _mistake._

Gerard started sobbing because he knew Frank had a reason to not want to talk to him or see him anymore, and he felt guilty even thinking about Frank in a bad way. Now, he didn’t even know where Frank was. He lived in some unknown, small apartment somewhere. 

Frankie was gone, gone, gone, gone…

Gerard cried hard and sank down onto the curb in front of a burnt out apartment building. He heard someone shout, but it sounded far away and he didn’t really care. He called for Frank even though his boyfriend was nowhere nearby. 

“Baby!” Gerard cried, even though that wasn’t what he called Frank. He fell backwards onto the sidewalk and covered his face with his hands, one still holding the bottle that was too empty to spill when on its side. “Frank—Frank!” Gerard called, covering his face with the blanket and moaning. He felt sick and his head was spinning. “Frankie,” Gerard he called. “Frankie…Frankie…”

“Sir?” 

Gerard moaned and rolled onto his side in an attempt to get up. He didn’t know someone else was around…but it didn’t really matter. 

“Sir—I need to see your hands.” 

Gerard swore and let go of his bottle. He laid with his back on the sidewalk and lifted up his hands to the unseen man who was talking to him.

“Sir, are you alright?”

“I’m…” Gerard didn’t have a word to finish his sentence and he rolled onto his other side where he saw a pair of shining black shoes. 

“Do you need help getting up?” The man asked.

“Yes,” Gerard muttered, sitting up and immediately feeling nauseous as his head spun horribly. Suddenly, there were hands around his shoulders that pulled him onto his unsteady feet.

“How much have you been drinking tonight?” The man asked, flashing a light into Gerard’s eyes. Gerard moved to cover his face, clutching his blanket and almost falling over backwards. “Sir?”

“Are you a cop?” Gerard asked, stumbling and looking for his bottle which was still on the ground. 

“Yes, sir. I’m Officer Roberts. What’s your name?” Gerard looked at the cop who adjusted his cap and then fiddled with the holster on his belt.

“I’m…I’m drunk,” Gerard said, swallowing hard and feeling sicker by the second. He really hoped he didn’t throw up on the cop.

“Yes, but that’s not your name,” the officer said, laughing softly. “What’s your name?”

“It’s…in my wallet,” Gerard said, fumbling for his pocket underneath the blanket. It took him a long time to figure out how to the part the blanket, but once he did, he handed his entire wallet to the officer without even opening it. “Can I sit down? I don’t feel so good,” he spluttered.

“How about you sit down in the back of my car, okay?” The cop said, gesturing to his car which had stopped across the street.

“Am I under arrest?” Gerard asked, gearing himself up to run even though the idea was horribly stupid. 

“No, you’re not under arrest, but you’re safer in the car and I think you should take a seat.” The man helped Gerard stagger to the car, and even though he knew it was stupid, Gerard laid down across the seat and curled up in his blanket. It reminded him of his car—only much less comfortable since it had plastic seats and reeked of piss. 

“Am I going to jail?” Gerard asked when the officer shut the door and sat down in the front seat.

“Gerard, do you remember me?” The officer asked.

Feeling suddenly anxious, Gerard crawled up the car door in order to sit up straight and looked through the smeared and scratched plastic that separated the front of the car from the back.

“No,” Gerard mumbled. “Do you remember me?” He asked. Mentally, he cursed himself and leaned his forehead against the window. 

“Gerard, I…ran into you about six years ago when you were living with, uh…Oh, what was his name…”

“Frank,” Gerard mumbled. “I lived with _Frank,_ ” Gerard slurred, falling back in the seat. “Am I going to jail for public…public intox?” Gerard asked, slumping over and wondering why he couldn’t keep from fidgeting. 

“You _should_ be,” Officer Roberts said. “But I don’t think you’d do very well in the drunk tank, and you don’t look like you’re going to have enough money to pay the fine which means you’d just end up in jail. Where can I take you tonight?”

“Like a cab?” Gerard asked, not even capable of understanding what was going on.

“Sure, Gerard. This is your one break, alright? I don’t want to see you in jail after what you’ve already been through—and just don’t mention it to the papers.”

“Papers?” Gerard asked, falling over in the backseat.

“Gerard, where can I take you? Are you homeless?”

“I live with Frank,” Gerard said, starting to cry. In his head, he _wanted_ to live with Frank…

“And where is Frank’s place?” Officer Roberts asked. 

“I don’t know,” Gerard sobbed. “I got lost.” This conversation felt very therapeutic as he wrapped up in his blanket.

“Okay,” Officer Roberts said. He started typing into his dashboard laptop and mumbled something about Frank. Gerard looked up and noticed that the man was pulling up an address. The world was getting weird…

“Am I going to prison?” Gerard asked, even though they’d already discussed this. He just wondered if this were all a trick.

“No, you’re not going to prison,” Officer Roberts said sternly. He started to drive and talked into his radio. He prattled off some police jargon and said what he was doing. A static-y voice asked if he were sure about his decision, but Gerard passed out before he heard Officer Roberts’ answer.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank was dragged out of bed when he heard someone pounding on his door. He figured it was one of the friends of the former tenant—having already gotten three late night visits in the past two weeks from unknown party animals. 

He pulled on a shirt and staggered into the main room of his tiny, tiny apartment and clipped on a light before peering through the peephole. He saw an officer’s cap and narrowed his eyes.

“Who is it?” Frank asked. The man outside looked up and Frank saw the officer’s full uniform.

“Officer Roberts from the NJPD. Open up.” Frank stared at the man for a moment longer—something seeming familiar about him, but didn’t take too long to open the door in fear of making the officer mad.

“Yes?” Frank asked, opening the door slowly and looking down the hallway to check for spying neighbors. He didn’t see any, but when he turned his head to scan the other end of the hall, he saw someone in a green blanket leaning face-first against the wall.

“I found him lying down in the middle of the sidewalk in the projects,” Officer Roberts said, gesturing towards the form leaning against the wall. 

“That’s…” Frank stared at person and it slowly sank in that that was Gerard. “He doesn’t…he doesn’t live here,” Frank said, looking up at the cop and then over at Gerard who moaned and rolled his head against the wall. 

“Well, I’ve got to report to a domestic disturbance two blocks down so you need to take him. Just like old times, right?” The officer asked before laughing and walking away. He just _walked_ away…leaving Frank alone with the man moaning and squirming against the wall.

“Gerard,” Frank said, sighing heavily and approaching the man who reeked of booze. “What are you doing?”

“I messed up,” Gerard said. It sounded like he was crying, but drunk tears just didn’t work for Frank anymore.

“Come on…you can come inside, but I’m calling Mikey.” Frank put his hand on Gerard’s shoulder and tried to pull him away from the wall. Gerard resisted him. “Gerard, come on…”

“Frank,” he mumbled, slumping off of the wall and falling onto Frank’s shoulder. Frank groaned and tried to push him off, but it was useless. Gerard was too heavy. 

“Fine,” Frank mumbled, rubbing Gerard’s shoulder and helping Gerard stumble into the apartment. “Here. Sit on the couch.” Frank set Gerard down on the couch and locked his apartment door. The dogs were hiding in the bedroom—still terrified of people after the break in.

When he thought about the break in, he felt guilt stab at his chest. He thought of Gerard in the hospital and he felt like he might start to cry. What was he doing out drunk on the street? Didn’t he know it was dangerous?

“Sweetheart, what were you doing out there?” Frank asked, sitting down beside Gerard who immediately leaned down on his shoulder. 

“I was gonna find you,” Gerard said, sniffing loudly and rolling his head off of Frank’s shoulder. “But then I got lost—and then I got arrested.”

“You didn’t get arrested,” Frank said with a sigh, getting up from the couch. “You got drunk. They brought you to me by mistake.” 

“I tried to find your apartment,” Gerard slurred, lying down as soon as Frank had made room. 

“Why?” Frank asked. “Gerard, you know you don’t—”

“I wanted to see you,” Gerard mumbled, curling into a ball on the couch. His face was soaked with sweat and tears, and there were lines of dirt in the creases of his skin. He looked pathetic…

“Gerard, we’re over…”

“But…” Gerard squirmed on the couch and his eyes fell closed. 

“I’m going to call Mikey,” Frank said softly.

“Okay,” Gerard whispered, pulling the filthy green blanket over his face. 

“You just…sleep,” he mumbled, flipping off the light so Gerard wouldn’t have to cover his face with the dirt-caked blanket. “Good night.”

“Night,” Gerard muttered. “Love you…”

Frank froze on his way to his bedroom, certain he’d heard Gerard wrong. The only noises that followed were Gerard’s deep, short breaths. Gerard couldn’t possibly have said that…Gerard loved Marcus.

Gerard loved Marcus, Frank reminded himself.

He lowered his eyes to the floor and retreated to his bedroom. It wasn’t fair of Gerard to do this to him…he loved Gerard more than anything. It hurt so badly to have him here. But it proved his biggest fear true—he couldn’t run from Gerard. He couldn’t push Gerard away like a bad memory.

He meant too much to him…


	14. Chapter 14

_Chapter 14_

Gerard rolled over, cracking his eyes open and staring at the darkness. His knees were bent and he felt his feet hanging over the edge of whatever surface it was that he was lying on. He had his green blanket over his shoulders and fisted in his hands. It wasn’t cold, but the fabric he was pressed against felt like his car.

He was back in his car?

When he moved to roll over, Gerard was shocked to fall onto the floor instead of pushing against the front seats of a car. He cried out when his body slammed against the ground, and whimpered when his head began spinning and aching. 

Slowly, he made himself sit up and rubbed the back of his head. He peered around himself and noticed that he’d been lying on a couch in an apartment he didn’t recognize. 

“Hello?” He called. His voice was a low whisper, because he was more than a little afraid of where he’d ended up. Most of what he remembered was pacing the streets with a bottle of his dad’s good bourbon and talking to himself. 

Had he gone home with someone? This wasn’t Mikey’s place, so he hadn’t been picked up by anyone…

Slowly, he stood up and staggered away from the couch. He held his hands out in front of him in the dark until he found a wall. He felt around it, searching for a light switch or a door to a lit hallway.

Once his hand lit upon a switch, he flipped it and immediately regretted it. The light just made his head hurt that much worse, and no amount of covering his eyes or cursing fixed it. It took a few minutes, but once the light was a little less blinding, Gerard managed to see his surroundings. 

It was an apartment—which he’d already gathered—but a tiny, tiny one. There were boxes stacked up against the wall just a few inches from the light switch. The boxes had “Gerard’s” written on them in thick black marker…

Suddenly, it hit him.

“Frank?” He called. Gerard hurried towards a small hallway off of the living area which doubled as a kitchen. “Frank?” Just off the hallway was a tightly closed door and Gerard held his breath as he stared at the door.

He didn’t know exactly why he was here, but he knew he was probably still drunk, and he knew that Frank probably found him and took him in out of necessity rather than preference…

He had one shot to get this right… They were together now—there was a chance to talk. He couldn’t blow this. There was too much riding on this encounter.

But if he knocked on the door now…if he confessed all of his feelings and begged Frank to listen, wouldn’t Frank just discount them because he was drunk?

Gerard bit his lip and took a step back from the door that separated him from his former lover who sleeping peacefully…

Frank wouldn’t want to hear a word from him. It was Frank who had ended it this time, not Gerard, and he had no right to try to make something work when it was dead…

He felt his heart sink in his chest and he backed out of the hallway. Frank didn’t want him. Why would he? He’d taken Frank for granted, and he deserved to lose him just as much as Frank deserved to start over with someone new. 

It was time he stopped ruining people’s lives and dragging them into messes that weren’t their problems. Whatever reason Frank had brought him here or allowed him to stay didn’t matter…Frank _didn’t_ want him here.

Gerard walked over to the couch and grabbed his blanket up from the floor and threw it over his shoulders. He glanced back at the hallway and then turned away. There was no purpose in feeling false hope…Frank had said it over and over that their time together was finished. _It_ was over, and Gerard wouldn’t be caught dead standing in the home of someone he loved if he wasn’t wanted.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank woke up when his alarm stared blaring at him. He slapped the top of the horrible device to stop it and rolled onto his back. He’d set in an hour earlier than he needed so he would have time to talk to Gerard before Mikey came to pick him up.

He’d barely slept at all, and had spent most of his night trying to think up ways to communicate with Gerard that they just needed to take a break from each other for a while. Trying to force Gerard to stay away obviously wasn’t working, and he was almost certain that Gerard understood that he still had feelings for him. He _loved_ Gerard, and he just wanted him to be free to explore his options so he could decide what he wanted. 

Around five in the morning he’d figured out how to explain it, but his mind still hadn’t wanted to let him sleep. Once he’d finally fallen asleep, though, he was _out._ The sleep was heavy, dreamless, and overall brief. By the time he woke up from that awful alarm, he’d nearly forgotten how to say what he’d spent all night planning.

Something about “I still love you” and “I know you still have feelings for me.” He’d added on that he didn’t want to keep Gerard trapped, and that he wanted Gerard to try being with other people to see if he was limiting himself to Frank just because he felt obligated because of all they’d been through together.

He’d had a briefer way to explain it all, but it had left him. It was seven a.m. and Mikey would be over at 7:30 to take Gerard home. He couldn’t waste any time lying in bed.

Frank got up and took a deep breath before he opened his bedroom door. He didn’t know what to expect when he looked into the main room of his apartment. He’d left Gerard drunk and passed out on the couch… He’d made sure Gerard was on his side so he wouldn’t throw up and choke in his sleep, but he didn’t seem dangerously intoxicated to where Frank couldn’t leave him alone…

But maybe he’d misjudged the situation because Gerard wasn’t on the couch and neither was his old, green blanket.

“Gerard?” Frank called, going back into the hallway and ducking into his bathroom. It was empty, and there was nowhere else in the apartment for him to possibly hide…

He was gone…

He’d gotten up while Frank had been asleep and had just disappeared. Frank hurried towards his fridge, wondering if Gerard left a note on his dry-erase grocery list board, but there was nothing. Not even a note on the table.

Gerard had just left.

Frank stared at his kitchen and felt his heart sink. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted Gerard to stay until he woke up and found him gone.

( ) ( ) ( )

“Get in the fuckin’ car!” Mikey screamed. He’d found Gerard walking the streets on his way to pick said man up from Frank-the-asshole’s apartment, and had been standing in the street for over ten minutes trying to get him into the car.

“Mikey, just let me go,” Gerard muttered, staring down at the sidewalk. 

“Quit feeling sorry for yourself and get in the goddamned car!” Mikey yelled. 

“Fine,” Gerard said, going over to the passenger side of the car and sitting down heavily. He slammed the door loudly. Mikey took a moment to gather his thoughts and shook away his annoyance. This was _Gerard._ Gerard was troubled and confused…he couldn’t get mad at him.

“Gerard…you need help,” Mikey said when he got back in his car. 

“So take me to a fuckin’ psychward where they can pump me so full of drugs that I don’t even remember my own name,” Gerard mumbled.

“You’re still drunk,” Mikey muttered. “You smell like piss.”

“It’s the blanket,” Gerard mumbled. 

“Then wash the damned thing,” Mikey hissed. “You can’t live like this just because he can’t get his priorities straight…what did he say to make you leave so early? Didn’t he tell you I was going to pick you up?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Gerard whispered. 

“What do you mean? He just stood there?”

“I left before he woke up. I know he doesn’t want me there. He broke us up for a reason…and I’m sure it wasn’t so he could get drunk visits from me in the middle of the night.”

“I was going to pick you up last night, but Frank said he wanted me to wait so he could talk to you,” Mikey said.

“Yell at me is probably more like it,” Gerard whispered.

“He didn’t sound angry, Gerard. I mean, I don’t particularly _like_ Frank—”

“He didn’t do anything to you,” Gerard mumbled. Mikey ignored him.

“—but he does care about you. I don’t want you to start thinking that he hates you or something.”

“If he loved me, he wouldn’t have dumped me,” Gerard whispered, leaning his head against the passenger-side window.

“If you knew what you wanted from your life, you wouldn’t have tried to cheat.”

“I know it’s my fault,” Gerard said, slumping forward and pressing his head against his knees. “I said I was sorry! I apologized and I asked him to change his mind, but he was angry and upset and…the more I think about it, the more I realize that there’s no reason for him to be with me.” His voice turned high-pitched and whiny, but Mikey didn’t interrupt him. Gerard needed to vent, and he was almost certain that if he let Gerard get it all out, he’d be less likely to run away in an attempt to freeze to death. “I’m pathetic and confused and…we don’t _sleep_ together, so there’s no reason to date…and I made him feel unwanted—” Gerard started sobbing and fisting his hands in his hair. “I made him think I didn’t want him, and I do want him—he’s my boyfriend! If he doesn’t want me, who else will?”

“He’ll take you back,” Mikey said, rolling his eyes. 

“You just don’t understand,” Gerard cried. “I _ruin_ everything—I broke up my _family._ I wanted to be with him—I don’t know why I went to Marcus. I _know_ I want Frank.”

“You should’ve stayed at Frank’s and told _him_ this.”

“But I _can’t,_ ” Gerard cried. “I look like an idiot! I went to his house _drunk_ and I don’t even remember _seeing_ him! If we had a chance, I fucked it up—just like everything else!”

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Mikey said with a deep sigh. “Gerard, I know you feel bad for messing up, but stop crying about it and try to fix it. Get back with your therapist, talk your way through the issues you’re having, and go back to Frank when you feel like you’re better. Yeah, drunk visits suck, but it at least shows that you want him. If you’d rather be with Marcus, you would’ve gone to his fuckin’ place…”

“There was no way I could get to the city,” Gerard whispered.

“So you wanted to?” Mikey asked, raising a brow and passing Gerard a quick, skeptical look.

“No!” Gerard called. “I just…Frank’s the most important part of my life. Without him, I would’ve died—I would’ve died _horribly._ And…Frank was there and he helped me get through _everything._ It feels so awful that I _made_ him give up on me. I drove him away—I _pushed_ him away.” Gerard covered his face with his hands and sobbed. 

“You can win him back,” Mikey said. “Just get some help. Quit trying to kill yourself. It was below freezing last night—you could’ve died on the street.”

“I don’t care,” Gerard wept. “I want to be dead—Mikey, I’m scared.” Mikey knew that Gerard had attempted to die in his car, and it didn’t surprise him that those feelings remained. But for Gerard to admit that he was afraid…that made Mikey nervous. He’d only been out of the hospital for a little over two days and he’d walked out of their parents’ home with a bottle of bourbon and no solid intent of ever returning.

What was he going to do the next night when he was lonely? They had a chance of finding him on the street, but if he hung himself or cut himself in the night, no one would know. They could check on him every hour—or every half hour, and still be too late. 

Slowly, it sank in. There was no way that they could keep him under constant surveillance, and keeping him at home alone was not going to help him feel any better.

“Gerard…do you want Mom and me to look into, like, a hospital for you? So you can get help without…having to be alone?”

“I don’t know,” Gerard whispered. He sniffed and wiped his nose on his filthy, green blanket. “I mean…I don’t want put in the psych ward. I’m not crazy, or anything.”

“I know you’re not mentally ill,” Mikey said. “But, do you really think you’ll be okay if I just leave you at home with Mom and Dad? You’ve tried to freeze to death twice now…”

“I just…it feels like I have no purpose without Frank. I know that sounds stupid and rude because you and Mom have done a lot for me, too, but...”

“I get it,” Mikey said. “Frank’s different from me and Mom.”

“It’s not just…sex stuff.”

“No—I know,” Mikey said. Though he couldn’t explain it and didn’t want to dwell on it, he knew Gerard loved Frank more than anybody else. Frank had saved his life, and that wasn’t just something a person’s soul can forget about. Gerard may have forgotten Frank’s face for a while, but his soul had still known to talk to him when they’d met again. What Gerard and Frank had was _devotion._ “Frank still loves you, Gerard,” Mikey muttered. It was what Gerard needed to hear. “But you’ve gotta make it so he sees that you want to be with him and that you aren’t just staying with him because you feel like you have to.”

“Should…should I really commit myself to a hospital though?” Gerard asked, looking at Mikey nervously. His face was flushed and his eyes were bleary. He’d never looked more like a frightened child… 

“Do you think you’re going to hurt yourself again?” Mikey asked. “And don’t lie to yourself. If you think you’re going to, you need to tell me.”

“I don’t…” Gerard looked away and started chewing on his lip. “Won’t they like…make me wear that one-piece suit that’s both clothes and a blanket…?”

“I think that’s just for prisons,” Mikey said, fixing his brother with a weird look. “You wouldn’t be an inmate, you’d be a patient. They’d take care of you…You’d have clothes.”

“Mikey…what if…one of the other patients hurts me?” Gerard asked, pulling his blanket tighter around his shoulder. 

“No one is going to hurt you,” Mikey said in a soft tone. “You don’t _have_ to go, but…you have this cycle where you start getting better and then you crash. Then you start getting better again, and something happens and you crash. Maybe this time you can catch yourself…”

“Will you…at least visit me?”

“Gerard, you know I will.” Mikey reached over to rub his brother’s rigid shoulder. “And if you get there and don’t like it, I’ll break the window and help you sneak out.” Gerard tried to smile, but the expression just didn’t break through.

“And…you won’t tell Frank I went crazy?” Gerard asked, looking down at the floor of the car.

“You’re not crazy,” Mikey said firmly. “You’re exhausted. You’ve been through a lot of shit—and I have to remind you of this every other week. Your life _sucks._ You’re allowed to break down every now and again…You just need to stop being so hard on yourself and let yourself recover.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Gerard whispered. 

“None of it was your fault,” Mikey said as they pulled into the driveway of their parents’ house.

“God, please don’t let him yell at me,” Gerard said as soon as he saw their father standing at the front door waiting. “ _Please._ I can’t take it—I can’t.” Gerard’s face became pale and Mikey could see him visibly trembling even under the green blanket. “God, I can’t,” Gerard said. “Oh, God…I’d rather be dead. Mikey—I…”

“It’ll be okay. He’s not going to say anything.” Mikey got out of the car first, letting Gerard prep himself and calm down. 

“Where’d he go?” Their father whispered when Mikey came up to him.

“He ended up at Frank’s. A cop picked him up and took him there—I don’t really know why.”

“He took my bottle of bourbon—my good bottle.”

“Yeah, I don’t care,” Mikey said firmly. “Tell him you’re glad he’s safe, and act like you don’t _know anything._ ” Mikey looked back at the car where Gerard slowly stepped out. He almost fell because his body was shaking so hard, but Mikey went to his side to offer him support.

“Is he mad?” Gerard whispered. 

“No,” Mikey said, squeezing his brother’s shoulder. “Let’s just go talk to Mom.”

( ) ( ) ( )

It had been over a week since Gerard had been admitted to the hospital…the ward…the prison. He’d been offered help, provided with charity funds to pay for treatment, interrogated, searched, showered, and tucked away in a little sterile room. He had his own bathroom where his toothbrush and toothpaste were kept. He’d been given an electric razor after it had been established that he wasn’t going to mutilate himself, but he wasn’t allowed to have anything else that was sharp—including pencils and pens. When he’d asked for it, he’d gotten printer paper and crayons. He really didn’t like crayons, but when he wanted to write something down, he’d take what he could get.

When the doctors tried to prescribe him medication, he’d refused it. He didn’t want drugs to make him better. He wanted to get better on his own…they told him he was being stubborn, but he couldn’t see himself living out of a pill bottle. 

He went to his private counseling sessions, but tried to skip group therapy whenever he could. There was nothing more degrading than sitting in a circle with a bunch of other depressed and suicidal people. They didn’t understand him, and he didn’t want them to. He already had to tell his new therapist most of his life story, and he didn’t want to tell it to anybody else. No one else needed to know that he was a rejected sex slave that no one wanted around.

Because he preferred to lay in bed instead of partaking in _required_ activities, his status was marked as “resistant” and “critical.” Nurses didn’t want to deal with him even though he wasn’t mean when he argued. Orderlies looked at him with guarded eyes, and the other patients thought he was an asshole. 

Gerard hated it here…he was just glad that lights-out was early because lying in bed was his favorite part of his life. He would lie in bed until morning—most of the time not even sleeping—waiting for the nurses to come wake him and order him into the shower. He’d stall for as long as he could, and then merely wet his hair and face in the shower before shaving. He used deodorant, so it wasn’t like he smelled…Maybe once a week he’d actually shower, but he really didn’t care. He had no one he needed to impress, so there was no point in keeping himself spotless. 

Once he was showered, it was time for breakfast. Breakfast, at least, he got to eat in his room. Other meals were served in the cafeteria. He didn’t really talk to anyone, but he sat at a table with three other guys who were just as un-talkative as him. After finishing his meal, he would return his tray and dull, plastic spork to the dishwasher woman, and then he was allowed to go back to his room. 

He got to rest by himself for an hour, and then he had to either meet with his counselor or go talk with the group. After counseling came lunch…then more free time…then “activity time.”

Gerard hated that time. The nurses tried to force him to “go play” with the other patients, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to play cards, or ping pong, or billiards, or basketball, or board games. Most of the time, he sat on the floor up against the wall and refused to move. Nurses would scold him and accuse him of not making an effort, but he never spoke a word to them. He just observed the other patients “enjoying” themselves. 

None of these people were happy, and Gerard had some serious doubts that he ever would be. Once a week Mikey would visit him, and those visits at least made him feel alive…but he always waited for Frank, even though he’d made sure that Frank never found out where he was.

He really wanted to see Frank…This whole experience was like a long solitary-confinement sentence. He had more than enough time to think about his mistakes and plan his well-crafted apology.

But whenever he went to therapy, he was just reminded that he didn’t deserve Frank. Maybe it was his own guilt, and maybe it was because another patient had yelled at him in therapy that he was a “cheating fag-whore,” but Gerard felt like he’d been nothing but a cancer in Frank’s life. Even though he’d loved him, that love was going to kill Frank, and it was best that he’d managed to escape.

Gerard found it hard to get out of bed…He loved his bed. It cradled him and never felt as exhausted as he did. The bed offered comfort…the bed was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's getting tough to read with all the depression, but I promise that there will be relief at the end of the next chapter.


	15. Chapter 15

_Chapter 15_

She was starting her first day at work in the institute, and everything seemed optimistic. It was hard to admit, but she had been terrified after she’d been fired from the hospital she had worked in for over two years. If only she’d known that getting close to a patient and visiting her at home would lead to her termination, she would never have done it. Fortunately, the hospital still agreed give her references for the next job she applied to, with no mention of the incident. 

They said that she was good with the patients—maybe too good—and that they wished they didn’t have to follow the policy so closely because it was a shame to lose her. Even after their kind words, she’d been frightened. Being unemployed and living alone in an area she barely knew was not reassuring. It was scary—it was mortifying. 

The mental health hospital had not been her ideal working environment, but she had the qualifications and there was an opening—and it was a job. She was grateful, and everything seemed to be looking up.

It felt wrong to be so happy when in the presence of so many miserable souls…

“And which patient is that?” Lindsey asked, pointing to a man lying on the couch in the activity room. The other patients were all trying to be active. Some were playing cards, others were watching TV. Everybody was doing something…except for him.

“Him? Oh, don’t worry about him. That’s Gerard.” The nurse who was showing Lindsey around the hospital wasn’t exactly cheerful, but nine years in a place like this could wear anybody down.

“I don’t want to sound redundant,” Lindsey mumbled, “but he looks kind of sad.”

“Well, that’s what he’s in for. Clinical depression and suicidal thoughts.”

“If he’s suicidal, shouldn’t he be under closer observation?” Lindsey asked, looking at the man who barely even blinked as he slumped over on the couch and stared at the floor. 

“Closer observation than this is lockdown and he’s shown no indication of acting on his impulses.”

“Are you sure?” Lindsey asked. “I don’t mean to be rude, but he’s definitely not coping with whatever put him in here.”

“He won’t take any anti-depressants, but he’s not a self-harmer. His idea of suicide attempts is lying around until he starves to death. He’s been doing it since he got here four months ago.”

“That’s miserable,” Lindsey said, keeping a pitiful eye on the patient called Gerard as she was led through the activity room. 

“He was hospitalized for a while after he tried to freeze to death in his car. The file said he just slept in the backseat and didn’t get up for food or anything. Just laid there freezing until his brother found him and had him taken to the ER.”

“Did they say what got him in that state?”

“Bad break-up,” the nurse said, checking something off on her clipboard. 

“There has to be more than that to tip a guy over the edge,” Lindsey commented.

“He gets funds through a private donation made for victims of major sex crimes—he was one of those sex-slave things.”

“ _Things?_ ” Lindsey asked.

“He’s barely a person anymore,” the nurse said, looking at her sharply. “Consider him catatonic.”

“But he’s still a person…”

“Yes, a very obstinate, rude, and argumentative person. You’ll learn—but now we have to check on the patients who are under observation.”

“Okay,” Lindsey said, dropping the conversation for the sake of professionalism. There would be time to read Gerard’s file later, and time to make his acquaintance, too. 

( ) ( ) ( )

After many unmapped months in the hospital, Gerard had come to many pressing, crushing conclusions. The first was that he couldn’t afford to stay here for long. The funds he’d been given only covered two years of care. After that, he was on his own to pay, and his parents couldn’t afford a place like this… Second, he didn’t feel any better no matter how much he talked about feelings and bad pasts. 

The last thing he had come to learn was that love—in any form—was not real. It was all an illusion…a fantasy. One person manipulating another until he got bored. Parents and children—that was just mutual tolerance. Relationships? Affection fades…it’s all about attraction. It’s all about the sex…

Take the sex out of the picture and there was nothing left. There was no reason to be around someone for more than a few hours of companionship if sex wasn’t involved. Sex brought with it the illusions of commitment, trust, and intimacy. There was no commitment. There was no trust. Intimacy was a joke. Everyone put up walls. Everyone shut people out and hid the darkest parts of the themselves. 

Control…people dated because they wanted control. People married, especially, to get control. 

He had clung to Frank for the sake of controlling him. If he kept Frank, then he controlled where Frank lived, what he ate, who he talked to… Control worked both ways. As long as he dated Frank, Frank could keep control over where he lived, what he ate, and who he talked to. If Frank controlled him, Frank could protect him from himself. 

But Frank got sick of that job, just like Gerard had gotten tired of only seeing Frank. It was destined to happen. “Love” fades…it tapers. It disappears.

( ) ( ) ( )

“Good morning!” The new nurse had too much energy. Gerard would hate her, if he had the emotions left in him to feel anything besides numbness. He’d had every part of his past picked at, prodded, and examined, and now he felt nothing towards his old experiences. Rape? Who cared? It happened to lots of people. Assault? Bones heal. Bruises fade. Scars…who cared? “Get up—it’s time for breakfast!” The nurse threw open the white curtain and let the sun beat into his room. 

Gerard laid still and stared at the wall, his back to window and his eyes away from her. It was so fucking difficult to get out of the bed. It was like every cell in his body was determined to lay still and not move—not ever. 

“Come on—It’s hot food day.”

He didn’t tell her he’d rather starve. If he did, they would bring in the chair and start the force-feeding shit. 

Food made him sick. Especially on hot food day.

“Gerard, you know you can’t just lay here,” the nurse said. He didn’t answer her. There really was no reason to talk to anyone here—other than the counselors. Group therapy sucked…the other patients hated him, so he pretended to be catatonic. 

Every day he closed his eyes and wished to be back in his car—freezing in the backseat. As soon as he got out of here, that was where he was going to go. He would wait a year until winter came back, and he would leave, get in his car, drive to the city, park in a lot, and die. It would be over.

He didn’t know why he dragged it out by putting himself here. He guessed that deep down he really wanted to go back to feeling happy and alive…but now he knew.

Without Frank, there was no happiness. There was nothing.

“Hey,” the nurse said, her voice becoming suddenly compassionate. She wasn’t the first who had tried to get to know him. The others had tried, gotten frustrated, and given up. She would, too. He had no friends here, and he didn’t want any friends here… “I’ll tell you what…if you eat your meals today, tomorrow I’ll smuggle in a big, juicy burger from the Applebee’s down the road. How’s that sound?”

“I hate food,” Gerard mumbled. It was nowhere near what he wanted to say, but it was all that came to his lips. 

“I’m going to get your breakfast,” the nurse said. “Don’t run away,” she added sarcastically. While she was gone, Gerard pulled his body up from the mattress. Every muscle ached and it felt like fire was burning through his limbs as he stood up. He pulled off his night shirt and threw it on the floor even though they practically yelled at him to put his clothes in the hamper. He changed out of his white pajama pants in favor of his white, scrub-like day pants, and pulled his white t-shirt on over his head.

He put on his clean socks and slipped on his white hospital shoes and felt like less of a person. There was no individuality here…he was a white-washed imitation of a human being.

The nurse came back with his breakfast-in-bed tray and set it down at his side on the bed. He was thankful that breakfast was eaten in the patients’ rooms instead of in the cafeteria. He hated the cafeteria. He never had anyone to sit with…

“Here you go—I got you an extra pancake and even got you a waffle. A _waffle!_ ” Gerard stared at her. No one got excited about waffles…even he didn’t understand why waffles were so great, or why she thought that a man who wanted to die would appreciate extra food. “A _waffle,_ Gerard,” the nurse said in a sing-song voice. Then she went so far as to pick the waffle up off of his plate and wave it around in front of his face. 

Somehow, it brought out a laugh. Just a small one. But once his lips were parted, she pushed the waffle in his mouth.

“Yum, yum, yum,” she said, putting on some weird, monster voice as she pushed the waffle farther. Gerard grabbed it from her and started eating, just to get her to stop. Once he swallowed it and the sickness caused from his hunger had left, he started eating the rest of the food on his plate in hopes that Nurse Bat-Shit-Crazy would leave. “There,” she said. “Just keep that up for today, and tomorrow it’s a _big juicy burger._ ”

“How about a big…leafy…ranch-covered salad…” Gerard mumbled.

“Or I could do a salad,” the nurse said with a big smile. “What kind of salad? Like a Caesars Salad, or a Taco Salad…”

“Normal salad,” Gerard mumbled. “But with fresh stuff…” They served salad in the cafeteria, but everything was frozen. “My cucumber had frost on it once.”

“That’s _nasty!_ The nurse exclaimed. Gerard looked at her in surprise. It was the first time he’d heard a nurse actually show concern for a patient… “I’ll put in a word about that—that’s disgusting. You’re not an animal—you should _have_ good food. No wonder you don’t want to eat!” She started ranting…she started ranting _for him._

“Group therapy sucks,” Gerard mumbled, testing the waters. 

“Why?” The nurse asked. 

“My group has nothing in common with me,” he said. “I’ve got like…one guy who was raped by a priest, but that’s it. I know you read my file…everyone reads my file. They could all write a fuckin’ book on it.”

“I…It should be voluntary instead of mandatory. If it doesn’t help you, you shouldn’t have to do it. Meeting with the counselors here can sometimes be enough. But if they’re feeding you frozen lettuce then you’re going to die of e coli or something before you _ever_ get better…”

“Why do you work here?” Gerard asked as he poured the little bottle of syrup over his small stack of pancakes. As long as he had company, eating didn’t feel as difficult.

“I got fired for getting too close to a patient,” the nurse mumbled. 

“So you’re trying to repeat it so you don’t have to quit?” Gerard asked. She was one of those people-persons. He never understood people like that. He didn’t like other people at all…he couldn’t see how anybody liked them.

“I just…Okay, it’s really just annoying when my patients are talked about as room numbers or diseases. I was working with a lady named Maurine who was fighting breast cancer and she’d lost her daughter to a car accident a week before her hospitalization, and she said I looked just like her.” She started telling this really long story that Gerard didn’t really care about. The old woman was going to die despite her best efforts and the nurse got fired for going to the woman’s house and giving her a bunch of flowers. He didn’t understand what was wrong with her visiting the woman, but he guessed he would get upset, too, if someone showed up at his house that he barely knew. “Maurine didn’t complain to the hospital—she just called to thank me and I got fired. I couldn’t believe it. I just—no, I couldn’t believe it.”

“Aren’t they going to fire you for sitting in here when you have other patients to serve?”

“No, I served you last so I could talk to you. All the other nurses say you’re catatonic, but I know better. _I_ see a person in there instead of ‘that guy who doesn’t get up.’”

“So that’s what they say about me,” Gerard mumbled, not really hurt at all. He knew the nurses didn’t like him, and he assumed that they could easily have said a lot worse. 

“Can I ask you something?” The nurse asked, sitting down on the bed with the tray of food between them. Nurses weren’t allowed to sit on the beds…

“What?” Gerard asked nervously. Was she seriously hitting on him? She was his _nurse._ That was disgusting!

“They said you came here because of a bad break-up…what happened?” Gerard glanced at her, trying to read her expression. He was used to everyone knowing about him—everyone but Bob, anyway. He wasn’t going to tell her anything, but the look on her face—the way she squinted her eyes and pursed her lips as if she were trying to peer inside of him—made him feel comfortable enough to speak. 

To actually _tell._

“He was the one who bought me from the slavery ring,” Gerard said, leaving out any detail that he could. “We were together after he let me go, and then I broke up with him because I wanted to forget about that part of my life. Then we met up again, and it was okay for a while, but things got a little rocky…I got assaulted by one of the slaves I used to know and I guess I never really got better.”

“Wait,” the nurse said. “I don’t understand. What do you mean you never got better? He broke things off because of an assault after sticking with you through your recovery the first time? That doesn’t make any sense…”

“I was going to cheat on him…There was this other guy, Marcus. He was like me, too, only I’d been in love with him before I ever met Frank. I went to his house and…Frank knew about it, but I didn’t go through with the affair. I felt really guilty, and when I got home…” Gerard stared at his plate and let his plastic spork drop onto the tray. “When I got home he told me to leave.”

“Did he know you didn’t go through with it?”

“I tried to tell him, but it didn’t matter.” Gerard sighed heavily. “He said that I obviously didn’t love him, and that I should go be with the person I did love… And then I slept in my car for a month and tried to die.”

“Oh, Gerard,” the nurse said, her voice practically dripping with concern. She threw herself over the tray and embraced him around the shoulders. Nurses weren’t supposed to make unnecessary contact. He came here to recover—not get harassed. “You’ve gotta get better so you can tell him how you feel—you obviously still love him. Go win him over!”

“I don’t want to,” Gerard admitted. “I just want it to be over. Frank wants to move on, and I need to let him. There’s nothing to gain from dating someone like me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with who you are,” the nurse said, leaning back from him. “You’re _perfect,_ okay? A little sad, and maybe a little disenchanted, but you’re not _dead._ You seem like a really sweet guy, and you’re sorry about what you did. My ex cheated on me, and he never apologized. You have a heart…”

“He didn’t visit me in the hospital,” Gerard said sadly. 

“What?”

“When they found me in my car and I almost died. They kept me in the hospital for a really long time and he didn’t visit.” He looked at the nurse and watched her face fall. Now she knew it, too. Frank didn’t love him anymore. 

“Gerard, he felt so _guilty,_ ” she said, looking at him in disbelief. “He had to feel so bad for what he did—in a way, by turning you out like he did, it was his fault that you were there. Like…no, not like it _was his fault._ It was _nobody’s_ fault, but to him—if you see it from his eyes—he didn’t listen when you tried to explain, and because of that you almost died. He _couldn’t_ come see you, because he felt so bad about what he did.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Gerard said quickly, turning away from her. “He never came, and I know he doesn’t want me anymore. I’m just here so I can find a reason not to do it again.”

“Do what?” she asked.

“Die in my car,” Gerard whispered. “Frank was my _everything._ I took him for granted and ruined my whole life. I have nothing else, and I don’t really want anyone else.”

“If Frank is what you want, you need to fight to get him. And right now, once you feel well enough to leave, you have the perfect chance. You’ve cleared the air now. You relationship with him as the _victim_ is over. Now you can start out as a couple—just an ordinary couple. What did you guys used to do for fun?”

“Fun?” Gerard asked.

“You know, like dates? Didn’t you go on dates?”

“Not anymore,” Gerard mumbled. I started having flashbacks and it ruined everything.”

“Well, flashbacks weren’t in your file, so that’s over now, right?” Gerard didn’t answer. “Are you have them still?” She pressed, losing her friendly tone and sounding like the trained nurse that she was.

“No. Not anymore,” he said. 

“Okay, so now the flashbacks are gone and you’ve realized that _he_ is the one that you want to be with, you can work on winning him back. And I don’t think that’s going to be very hard. He _has_ to care about you.”

“He doesn’t visit…I told my brother to tell him I was here, just in case he wanted to stop by for something. He hasn’t come.”

“He will,” the nurse said, giving him a big smile. He glanced at her and shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t see how it would matter. Whether or not Frank came was immaterial. Love wasn’t real, so it wouldn’t make a difference.

“Lindsey—you can’t _sit_ with the patients. He needs to get ready for his meeting—did he get his shower this morning?”

“Yeah,” the nurse said, looking at Gerard a little critically as she stood up from the bed and grabbed his tray. 

“Okay, hurry up. He has a counselor—he doesn’t need you picking at him, too.” The other nurse disappeared from the doorway and the nurse, Lindsey, took a step towards the door.

“He _will_ visit you, Gerard. Then you’ll know—he loves you, too, and you don’t have to do this to yourself. Get better and get out of here…Eat salad that isn’t _frozen,_ for Christ’s sake!”

Gerard shrugged and watched her go. Of all the counselors and patients he’d been made to talk to, none of them had spoken to him the way she had. She was honest and _real._ She wasn’t afraid to tell him he was wrong, either, which was different. The patients were glad to insult him, but they never offered actual, realistic advice.

After about fourteen years, he had made his own friend.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned to university, so I have much less time to write than before. The story is not dead, I am just very busy with class and work.

_Chapter 16_

Gerard was screaming and Frank stood there watching. Just watching…silently. He reminded himself over and over that was his _ex-_ boyfriend, and he didn’t have to feel bad for him anymore.

He didn’t _have_ to, but part of him still did.

“You look so pretty, baby,” a man slurred. Frank watched as the man circled Gerard who was strapped down to a metal table. 

Gerard begged the man to leave him alone, but Frank watched indifferently. Even when the man started punching his lover—his _ex-_ lover—in the mouth and face, Frank didn’t flinch. Gerard cried and cried—writhing against the straps that held him down.

“Now you just hold still, pretty baby,” the man slurred. “This will only hurt a little bit.”

Frank didn’t even grimace when the man brandished a long, curved needle and began threading it with what looked like fishing line. He did growl and cover his ears, however, when Gerard’s screams became deafening in the odd, small but yet infinite room. The man sewed one eye shut, and then the other…

Then Gerard’s screams and desperate cries were muffled as the man slowly, painfully, sewed his mouth shut. 

“There now. You just stay like that for a little bit, and I’ll be back.” The man walked off and Frank heard him going up the stairs. While he was gone, Frank stepped closer to the table where his ex-lover lie thrashing and wailing desperately. 

Frank looked down upon him and watched as the blood bubbled up from the wounds around his lips and eyes. Suddenly, he somehow felt like Gerard could see him.

The mutilated man jolted upwards, his face coming close to Frank’s. All it took was one look into those bloody, stitched shut eyes and Frank felt ill. When his former lover started screaming his name despite the line holding his lips shut, Frank started backing away even though the muffled words sounded like ‘don’t go, Frank. Frank, don’t go!’

( ) ( ) ( )

As soon as he was awake, Frank started screaming. He covered his mouth with his hands, but it barely muted the noise. He was sick and horrified—and utterly _disgusted_ with himself.

Even though it was a dream—

_It was a dream. It was a dream. It was a dream._

—Frank felt a hatred for himself brewing in his chest. But it was an old hatred—one that had been there a long time. 

How could he have seen that and _not_ reacted? He’d had nightmares about Gerard being hurt before, and he’d always tried to intervene and stop the pain. He _always_ fought to protect Gerard, even if he couldn’t move his body in the nightmares. Frank had always tried…why had this time been different?

He began sobbing, not able to control himself as he rolled onto his side in the bed. More than anything in the world, he wanted to curl into Gerard’s side and feel protected. Even if Gerard was the weaker one, his presence had always been so overpowering. No nightmare, no _fear_ could really overcome him when Gerard was around. Gerard had been so _real…_

Frank cried into his hands and pillow, trying to shake away the images as well as his self-loathing. Even if it had been a dream, why hadn’t he been disturbed as he watched the attack? Why hadn’t he gotten upset? Why didn’t he protect Gerard?

The phone started ringing and Frank didn’t know if he would be able to answer it. His chest was tight, and air escaped him as sobs too quickly for him to be able to breathe let alone speak. He threw his arm over onto the bedside table and forced himself to answer the phone on the very last ring.

He didn’t want to talk, but he needed to hear something real to prove that it had all been just a nightmare.

“Hello?” He said, not able to make himself sound at all composed.

“Hello,” the voice on the other end of the line replied. Frank didn’t recognize it, and he didn’t know if it was because the person was a stranger or because he was too distracted from crying.

“Hello?” He said again. “Who is this?” He choked out, slowly sitting up and shaking his hair out of his face.

“Hello, my name is Lindsey. I’m a nurse at the New Jersey State Center for Mental Health and Wellbeing.” Frank felt his skin turn cold and he stood up out of bed. That was where Gerard was. “I’m calling on behalf of one of my patients. He hasn’t received any visitors lately, and part of our mission is to help rehabilitate all patients by treating the underlying causes of their conditions as best we can.”

“I…Gerard?” Frank questioned. The woman sounded like she were reading a script, but why would she pause so abruptly? She didn’t ask any questions, but she simply ceased speaking as if all she had to say was that she was calling because it was her job…

“Our patient, Mr. Gerard Way, has not had a visitor in about two and a half months. I cannot reach his family at this time, and your number is on the list.

“The list?” Frank asked, feeling like he were in another dream. He sat back down on his bed and began rubbing his brow with his free hand.

“Yes. Would you be willing to come see my patient today?” The woman asked. 

Frank didn’t know what to think. Of course he wanted to go see Gerard after that horrid nightmare, but why couldn’t Gerard call on his own? Why did this nurse have to be the liaison? 

“I…I don’t—” He wanted to see Gerard, but what good would it do? Gerard didn’t want to see him… The nurse only called because, for some reason, his number had appeared on her list of contacts—which was probably imported from Gerard’s cell-phone.

“He hasn’t had any visitors in over ten weeks. I don’t believe we can treat his condition if everyone continues proving that no one cares about him.”

Her words left Frank speechless and gaping at the phone. This was a dream—or a _prank._ It _had_ to be.

“Sir?” The nurse questioned.

“Is this some kind of a joke?” Frank asked, relying on the rage the streets of Jersey had taught him in order to protect himself. He had to put his defenses up because hospitals didn’t call to ask for visitors. They just _didn’t._ Especially not psychiatric units. 

“I don’t joke about the wellbeing of my patients, Frank,” the woman said, sounding bitter. 

This was personal. 

“Look,” Frank said, keeping his defenses high. “Gerard doesn’t want to see me. He—”

“I don’t wish to discuss my patient’s personal life. He needs visitors to be treated. You’re next on the list. Are you going to help him, or are you just going to turn your back on him again?”

“What?” Frank asked, his voice cracking. Her words pierced him like knives and made the guilt he’d been trying to suppress for months devour him. 

Then she hung up. She didn’t say another word and the line had gone dead.

( ) ( ) ( )

For Lindsey, today had been a good day—at least at the start. She’d smuggled in a special breakfast for her favorite patient, and he’d actually eaten it without complaint. They’d created quite a bond over the past eleven days, and Lindsey was pleased to say that they appeared to be friends.

Gerard opened up to her about many things—his family life, his kidnapping, his abuse, and his never-ending love for Frank—but didn’t dare to whisper that he wanted a visitor.

She checked his file and saw how long it had been since anyone had come to see him. When she asked him about it, he said he’d told his brother and parents to leave too many times and they said they weren’t coming back. 

He told her he was sorry he’d done it, and that he’d just wanted time alone to think—but two months was too much time and his heart had been broken by their abandonment. He’d cried when he told her how Mikey had said he’d visit every day if he needed to. That was when she knew it was the right time to call the one person Gerard really wanted to see the most. 

Frank’s name wasn’t in the system as a contact, but while the other nurses were making their rounds, Lindsey snuck into the patient property closet and pulled out Gerard’s box. She’d found his phone, turned it on, and began to go through it. She didn’t read any messages or spy, but she quickly jotted down Frank’s number—at least what she hoped was Frank’s number—and then started going through the pictures Gerard had on the phone.

Most of them were of dogs, but a few were of a man with lots of tattoos and nicely-kept hair. He was attractive, and she didn’t blame Gerard for wanting to hold onto him.

Not wanting to get caught looking like a thief, Lindsey shut off the phone and put the box back on the shelf. She took the note with the phone number of “The Super-Man Frank” on it, and returned to her desk.

How much did Gerard have to care for that guy to make his contact name “The Super-Man”?

When she’d called, Frank sounded like he was crying, and she felt he’d better be after what he’d put Gerard through. He’d gotten a little angry at the end, but she just hung up on him after she was certain she’d convinced him to come.

So, around three o’clock that afternoon, she was not surprised when a short man with just enough tattoos crept carefully into her building.

“Can I help you?” She asked in a voice different than the one she’d used on the phone. She really wasn’t supposed to be working as the receptionist, but the other nurse was in the bathroom and Lindsey had happened to walk by. She’d been stalking the front doors for most of the day, watching and waiting for Frank to arrive.

“Yeah,” the man said, looking her over. “I got a call this morning telling me to come see a patient?” He looked so uncertain and she really could’ve laughed at him. But now wasn’t the proper time.

“Oh, we don’t make phone calls for visits,” Lindsey said. They really weren’t supposed to unless someone had gotten injured or someone had died.

“But I got a call,” Frank argued.

“I can assure you that you didn’t,” Lindsey said, keeping her voice as different from her phone alter-ego as possible. “Who are you coming here to visit?” She asked, rolling over to the computer behind the reception desk.”

“Um, his name is Gerard Way.”

“Way,” Lindsey repeated as if she didn’t know the name. She typed it in and struggled to find the visitor check-in part of their system, but succeeded before the amount of time she stared at the screen blankly seemed ridiculous. “Right. He’s in room twenty-two—what was your name, sir?”

“Uh—it’s Frank Iero.”

“And how do you spell that?” Lindsey asked, typing the name in where the computer told her to. “Okay, I’ll go talk to him and see if he’s willing to receive visitors today.” She stood up and walked out from behind the desk after closing out of the system. 

“Someone really did call me from here,” Frank said. 

“I can assure you that no one did,” she repeated. “Gerard is a special patient, but he usually doesn’t accept visitors. No one would call you.”

She left him there arguing with himself and walked down the hall to Gerard’s room. If her schedule served her right, he would have just gotten out of counseling which meant he had free time for visitors—but he could be too distraught to see anyone. Gerard didn’t usually get distraught though…and when he did, he showed it by lying silently in bed.

“Gerard?” She asked as he walked into his room. As she expected, he was lying on his side, staring at the wall. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fucking hungry,” Gerard complained. “There’s nothing good to eat here.”

“I’ll smuggle you in something nice for lunch tomorrow,” she said. “Right now, you have a visitor.”

“Is it Mikey?” Gerard asked, sitting up and looking too excited. She would have to call Mikey next to get him here…

“It’s Frank,” Lindsey said, smiling at him. His face fell, but she’d expected that.

“He doesn’t want to see me,” Gerard mumbled, moving to lie back down.

“He said he missed you so much that he felt a calling to come here to be with you.”

“ _You_ called Frank to tell him to come here,” Gerard said, rolling over so his back was to her.

“I did no such thing!” Lindsey shouted. “If you go around saying that, I’m going to get fired and no one is going to save you from the frozen salads they serve you here!”

“I don’t want to see Frank,” Gerard whispered.

“Yes you do,” Lindsey argued. “He came here to see you—why don’t you two just talk? Just because you’re broken up doesn’t mean you can’t be friends anymore. You _love_ him, Gerard. You’re just hurting yourself.”

“They should’ve let me die in that car…”

“Gerard, there’s nothing to get upset over. He’s come to see you.”

“Fine,” Gerard said, sounding like he could cry.

“It’ll be okay,” Lindsey told him. “If he says anything bad to you, I’ll throw him out myself.” 

Gerard stayed quiet and stared at the wall. He was shutting down, but that was fine. He could still hear, and she knew that if Frank said the right thing he could win his lover back.

She left to go retrieve Frank.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank crept slowly into the small, sterile bedroom Gerard was given at the hospital. The nurse left as soon as he was in the doorway, but Gerard didn’t move at all. He lie on his side with his back to Frank, ignoring him…hurt by him.

“Gerard?” Frank asked, remembering the time at the real hospital when he’d left before even saying one word to Gerard. He’d been afraid Gerard would just tell him to leave anyway, but now…seeing Gerard like this made him feel that all of this was his fault. If he hadn’t jumped to conclusions, Gerard would still be with him, under his roof and under his protection. “Gerard?” He tried again when he got no answer. 

His ex-lover sighed deeply, but didn’t move. 

“I…” Frank didn’t know what to say to him. He was here. He _wanted_ to talk to him, but he didn’t want Gerard to be unhappy. “I had a nightmare…I wanted to come make sure you were okay, because…I—I worry.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Frank bit his lip and looked over the form curled up under the white sheets. “Because I still love you…” He didn’t know if it was the right thing to say or not, but Gerard didn’t react. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“You don’t love me,” Gerard said, shifting under the blanket to pull it closer to his face.

“I really do, Gerard.” Frank stepped closer to the bed and spotted a chair on the other side of it beside a covered window. He moved towards the chair and sat slowly down. Finally he caught a glimpse of Gerard’s face—what wasn’t buried in fabric—and saw nothing but pain in the eyes he loved. “I shouldn’t have told you to leave,” Frank mumbled.

“If you didn’t want me, then I’m glad you told me before making me find out on my own.” Gerard rolled away so Frank couldn’t read him.

“I thought…I thought you wanted to be with someone else and that I was in your way. I thought I was doing what you needed.”

Gerard didn’t say anything. 

“And…I’m sorry I didn’t say anything at the hospital. I was really confused and ashamed, and I never meant to hurt you like I did. You’re the most important thing in my world—If I’d known what would happen, I wouldn’t have made you go. I thought you wanted to—Gerard, I thought you wanted him instead—and it made sense to me because you could help him, and he could help _you._ Because I’ll never understand what it was like for you, and he could…I felt like he was better for you than me, and it hurt me.” Frank sank his teeth into his lip to stop from crying. He was baring his soul to Gerard, and he was terrified that Gerard was just going to turn him away.

He _deserved_ to be turned away. Why would Gerard love him now? All he’d done was hurt him so badly he had to go to a mental hospital just to get help. 

“Marcus could never be with me,” Gerard whispered. “He belongs to Adam.”

“I didn’t know that,” Frank said, not sure if Gerard was saying he really hadn’t gone to Marcus’s house to try to spark something between them, or if he realized that later and that was why he went back home to Frank.

“You never even let me explain,” Gerard whispered.

“I was hurt,” Frank said. “I thought you wanted to be with him.”

“I did…but I was in love with you. We…We were going to, but I thought of you and I couldn’t. I didn’t want to anymore—I wanted to go back to you because I thought you loved me. Then you threw me out! I didn’t even go through with it and you kicked me out of your life.”

“Gerard, I still love you,” Frank whispered. 

“You can’t…I’m just—”

“Stop it!” Frank said, losing control of himself. He found himself dropping down onto the bed and grabbing Gerard by his shoulder and rolling him onto his back. Gerard started protesting and lifted up his hands to defend himself, but Frank pushed them aside and grabbed Gerard’s head to force him into a kiss. Gerard screamed into his mouth, fighting against him even though it just made Frank trap him more.

He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he _loved_ Gerard. He _needed_ Gerard.

When he finally broke the kiss, Gerard was in tears and hyperventilating. He started staring at the door, weeping and looking as if he were ready to call for the nurses to come save him. Gerard was waiting to get attacked, but Frank would never hurt him again.

Never. 

He would come here every day if he had to in order to prove his love to Gerard again.

“I love you,” Frank said to him, looking at the way his cheeks were flushed a bright pink. He had life in him now, unlike in the hospital bed. 

“You’re scaring me,” Gerard whimpered, looking from Frank to the doorway. He was frightened and fragile. Frank wanted to wrap him up in his arms and keep him safe, but that would cause more harm.

“I won’t hurt you again,” Frank said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from Gerard’s face. “Never.” Gerard flinched and looked at him nervously. 

“You’re scaring me,” Gerard repeated. Frank pulled away from him and felt a chill run through his body. 

“I’m sorry,” Frank said. Gerard looked at him nervously and pulled his blankets around himself on the bed. He never knew he would be the one to cause Gerard to look this weak and broken. “Gerard…you’ve gotta get better and get out of this place.”

“I should’ve died in that car,” Gerard said, his eyes going cold. “I don’t have anything left, Frank. If I get out of here, do you really think I have half a chance?”

“Come home with me,” Frank said, desperate to make things right. “I’ll do anything for you—Gerard, anything you ask.”

“That’s not…” Gerard didn’t finish his sentence, he just looked away at his covered window. 

Not enough? Not _good_ enough? Not what he wants?

“Not what, Sweetheart?” Frank asked him softly.

“Nothing,” Gerard answered, looking down at the bed. “You don’t need to stay here. You don’t…you don’t have to visit me. I’ll be okay on my own.”

“Gerard, I—”

“Don’t keep coming back just because you feel obligated. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I’m not here because I feel like I have to—Gerard, I just wanted to see you to make sure you’re okay.”

“And I’m fine,” Gerard answered.

“Please,” Frank said. “Don’t do this. I’m sorry…”

“Just leave me alone,” Gerard said with a heavy sigh. “You don’t have to take care of me anymore. Just…Just _go!_ Just get on with your life!”

“Gerard, I want you in my life,” Frank said. “I messed up! I should have never let you go.”

“Why would you keep me?” Gerard asked harshly. “Frank, I have nothing. I have _nothing_ I can give you. I’m meant to be alone. People like me aren’t meant to have anybody.”

“Don’t even start with that!” Frank called. It was horrible listening to the state Gerard had let himself fall into. He was more dead inside than he had ever been, and it made Frank sick to hear him.

“It’s true!” Gerard screamed. “What do I have left, Frank? _What!?_ Yeah, we can go home—then what? Yeah, life will look great for a few days or a few months. Then I’ll have another nightmare or another flashback and I’ll be back to _this!_ You’d just be stuck with someone you can’t help and can’t control. _No one_ should have to live that way. I _love_ you… I can’t have you live like that.”

“Gerard, I don’t care about that—I just want to be with you. I can take care of you when the flashbacks come. I can help!”

“But what about me?” Gerard whimpered. “ _I_ don’t want to live with that. On my own, I can fall apart and no one gets hurt. I’m not going to drag you down with me.”

“You don’t drag me down,” Frank said softly, sitting down at the foot of Gerard’s bed and putting a hand gently on his leg. Gerard pulled away from the touch and sat huddled in a ball at the head of the bed.

“There’s no point having a partner you can’t touch,” Gerard muttered. “I’m not going to hold you back anymore. Move on with your life. I’m just a bad part of it.”

“You’re not _bad!_ ” Frank insisted. “I’m not moving on—I’m not going anywhere.”

“Frank, let me go,” Gerard pleaded, lowering his head.

“No!” Frank said. “You’re not leaving. You’re _mine._ Nobody else is good enough for me—and I won’t see you with someone else. I gave you back your life, and you’re not putting me out of it. You’re not going to waste it in this hospital.”

Gerard stared at him with wide eyes. He looked like he was about to start crying, but the tears could quite break free. His lower lip trembled, and his mouth moved like he was trying to speak, but no words ever came. He just stared, and Frank held his gaze. He didn’t know if it was surprise or terror, but his body had frozen. He was petrified…


	17. Chapter 17

_Chapter 17_

Lindsey didn’t know if Gerard had gotten better or worse after Frank’s visit, but she was aware that Gerard’s “insurance” would stop paying for his stay in exactly two months, three weeks, and two days. Even though that seemed like a long time, Gerard’s lack of progress over the past months made it seem like mere seconds. 

He needed more time. He needed, virtually, an eternity within the institution’s care. Gerard had more nightmares now than he had when he’d first arrived, and he spoke less and less to his therapist. 

Frank’s visit almost seemed to have caused him to relapse…

But maybe he needed to relapse. Maybe he needed to face his past instead of just filing it away again.

She didn’t know what Frank had said to him when he’d visited, but it had caused Gerard to lay in bed for three straight days. He only moved to use the bathroom, and threw a silent tantrum when the staff tried to get him to take a shower or go to the cafeteria. 

He’d just tossed himself onto his bed and cried…like a spoiled eight-year-old. But Lindsey pitied him. This wasn’t his fault.

Some of the other staff members had lost their patience long ago, but whenever their annoyance bordered on disrespect, she made sure to remind them of whom they were dealing with. This was _Gerard._ He’d been not only raped, but kidnapped, held prisoner, tortured, and _sold._ They had no right to judge him. He was beautiful, and she loved him like a brother—like a _child._

Lindsey would do anything for him…

Anything at all.

“Gerard, you’ve gotta tell me what happened,” Lindsey said, placing a gentle hand on her friend’s shoulder. He was lying in his bed, staring out the window at the parking lot and looking lost and confused.

“He…was forceful,” Gerard muttered. That was all she ever got out of him.

Forceful how? Did he strike? Did he assault? Did he _molest?_ He was forceful… Just forceful.

“How? Did he yell at you?”

“Kind of,” Gerard said, rolling onto his back and staring up at Lindsey. He looked like a child, tucked into bed and waiting for a bedtime story. Only it was breakfast time…

“Did he touch you in an inappropriate way? You’ve been so quiet—I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t worried, Gerard.”

“He didn’t…He just…” Gerard sighed and looked back out the window. “He made me kiss him. I don’t know what to make of it. I was nervous and…It was scary.”

“Just a kiss?” Lindsey asked. It had been so long since Gerard had moved and spoken that it was beginning to seem like much more had transpired. 

“Yeah. And he said…said that no one else was good enough for him.”

“Well, honey, that’s a compliment.”

“He said I couldn’t leave him like this because I owed my life to him—why would he say that? He’s _never_ said anything like that before.”

“You _don’t_ owe your life to him,” Lindsey said, walking to the other side of the bed and blocking Gerard’s view of the window. “He may have rescued you, but that doesn’t mean he’s entitled to anything you don’t want to give him.”

“I mean…I want to be with him, but I just feel like—I don’t know—like we’ve gone through this before and I know what’s going to happen…”

“What’s going to happen?” Lindsey asked. Gerard tried to avoid answering, but she pushed until he did. It had been weeks since he had spoken to her, and she wasn’t letting him fall silent again. 

“I won’t be able to go through with it, and he’ll get frustrated and it’ll end all over—and I can’t handle that,” Gerard said, biting his lip against the tears that formed in his eyes.

“Sweetie,” Lindsey said, sitting down on the bed next to him even though it wasn’t allowed. “If all he wanted was _sex_ from you, he would’ve given up the chase ages ago. He _misses_ you. Honey, he doesn’t want you with anyone else because he wants you to himself.”

“But that’s…that’s just it—that’s _scary._ ”

“Because it reminds you of them?” Lindsey asked, keeping her tone sympathetic.

“Yeah,” Gerard answered. “I mean, I know Frank’s not like that, but…it’s what’s familiar. It seems like that’s what would happen. And I feel that if I go home to him that if something goes wrong—like, if something really, really goes wrong between us—he won’t let me leave.”

“That’s not going to happen to you…” Lindsey reached over to rub Gerard’s shoulder until he rolled onto his side facing her. “You know what I think?”

“What?” Gerard asked quietly. 

“I think he talked to you that way out of desperation. _Purely_ out of desperation. He knows that, in the past, you were made to answer to people who spoke to you that way, and he was really hoping deep down that you’d hear his tone and come back to him. He doesn’t have the attitude to walk the walk, but he was probably hoping that just talking the talk was good enough.”

“It scared me…”

“That’s what he was trying to do—because he wanted to scare you back into dating him. He’s lonely and he’s hung up on you…and, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re kind of hung up on him, too.”

“I know,” Gerard whispered. “It’s just…I don’t want to go back. It hurt.”

“What did?”

“Having to turn him down all the time. I hated that look he’d get, and how he’d have to like…you know, go in the bathroom to…to take care of it when it was _my_ job to do…”

“Honey, you don’t have to do things you don’t want to. He understands that. I told you, if all he cared about was the sex, he would’ve moved on.”

“I know that if I went back I’d probably be able to sleep with him again, but all it would take was one bad dream and it would be back to this…”

“The nightmares aren’t going to interfere with your life that much if you don’t let them. Remember what they are, Gerard—they’re just bad memories. Bad things have happened, but they’re gone now. You have a new life and no one from back then is going to hurt you.”

“Adam hurt me.”

“I know,” Lindsey mumbled. She could tell him over and over that nothing bad was going to happen, but it was a fact that a person who has been made a victim once is more likely attacked a second time. “Look, I can’t assure you that no one will ever hurt you again, but you can’t live in fear of that. You survived being kidnapped, you survived being _trained,_ and _owned,_ and _abused._ You lived through all of that, and you survived being attacked again. You’re still alive, so why are you giving up now? Adam is in jail and that David Whoever is gone…what do you have to be afraid of now?”

“Letting Frank down,” Gerard mumbled. “I don’t want to go back to him only to have him figure out that I’m not worth it.”

“But you _are_ worth it,” Lindsey insisted. “He’s trying to prove that to you and you’re shutting him out. I’m not trying to convince you one way or another about getting back with him—I just want you to take your life back. It’s not fair that Adam gets to keep it because he raped you in that house. He only did it because he was jealous that you _had_ a life and he didn’t.”

“He had Marcus…”

“He _stole_ Marcus. He was doing to Marcus what David did to you. He was keeping him, hurting him, and using him. And now, honestly, he’s doing the same with you. Do you think he doesn’t know what he’s caused? Staying here is letting him win—don’t let him win. Fight that asshole, Gerard. What right does he have to take everything you’ve got? He’s _nobody._ You moved on. He didn’t. Leave him to rot in jail—get back out there and live your life for God’s sake! Frank wants you, your family wants you, _I_ want you to live your life, too. Don’t do this to yourself anymore. What do you get from sitting here all day in bed?”

“I just…I miss what we had when I didn’t remember. We can’t have that anymore…”

“Why not?” Lindsey asked.

“It’s easy for you to tell me to take everything back, but you weren’t there. You don’t know what it’s like to be treated like you’re an animal…only good for one thing. And barely good at that.” Gerard started crying softly and he buried his face in the fabric of his blanket. “I don’t want to sleep with anyone anymore—it’s ruined. I don’t want it. And I don’t want someone around to make me feel guilty for not wanting touched. I want left alone—I want to die alone!”

Gerard started sobbing and Lindsey stood up from the bed. There was nothing more she could do for him. His problems reached deeper than just trauma. He had scars and scabs and wounds he wouldn’t let heal. And why did they need to heal? Who was she—or anyone else—to tell him that he had to get over it and get back in the game?

He was right. Relationships were for sex, and there was no reason for him to be made obligated to offer something he didn’t want.

“Gerard, you’re going to work something out,” she said. “You don’t have to sleep with anyone— _ever._ You can still have friends though. There’s no reason to go through life like this on your own.”

“I want to forget that it happened,” Gerard said shakily. “I want it to be a bad dream. I told myself for so long that they were just bad dreams—why couldn’t they just go away?”

“Because they made you who you are. You’re stronger than this. You know that.”  
“I want to go back to Frank,” Gerard whimpered. “But you weren’t there—you never saw the way he looked at me when I couldn’t go through with it. I fell apart and it killed him.”

“Gerard, you’re going to be okay,” Lindsey said softly. “He loves you, and if he gives you a reason to doubt that, there are a lot of other people who love you even more. They’re all willing to support you. We want you to get better.”

“It’s not fair to Frank,” Gerard mumbled.

“Who cares about Frank?” Lindsey asked out of desperation. “If he wants to be with you as much as he’s letting on, I’ve told you over and over, he doesn’t care about the sex! What he cares about is _you_ and getting _you_ out of here! He wants to see you live your life—and he wants a part in that life! If he just wanted a quick fuck, my God, Gerard!—he would’ve gotten with someone else!”

Lindsey walked briskly out of the room, not willing to let her anger take over any more. If all she did was yell, then she wasn’t going to be able to help at all. But it was just so _hard_ to keep her composure around someone who just refused to get better. She tried and tried with him, but Gerard had already given up. He’d been prepared to just _lay down and die_ twice. He was only alive now because someone was forcing him to live. If he had his way, even now, he’d probably go home, get in his car, and starve himself to death.

He’d been through enough, and being attacked didn’t make it any better. She wouldn’t tell Gerard this, but it was his own _fault_ that Frank had forced him to move out. Just because he’d been hurt didn’t mean he had a right to attempt to have an affair. He couldn’t have both Frank and that Marcus Whoever. He could have one or the other—and it was his own fault that he’d gotten in trouble for trying to take both.

He should’ve known better!

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard had stayed in the institution until two days before his funds for covering his stay would run out. To Lindsey, he looked no better than he had when he’d gone in. He was pitiful, and the lack of visits from his parents and ex-lover over those last few months was absolutely deplorable. 

To her, it seemed, that they didn’t care if he lived or if he died. None of them—except Frank—wanted Gerard to stay indefinitely in their home. And all Frank’s enthusiasm rewarded him with was Gerard’s caution. 

Gerard didn’t trust him. He’d been to overzealous with his last ditch efforts to get Gerard to come home to him. But, when it was time for him to move out, it was Frank who had shown up, and it was with Frank that Gerard was going to live.

His parents had only shown up the day before to tell him that they needed him to get a job right away if he were going to live with them because they were retired now and didn’t have the money to feed him.

What a way to make him feel wanted…

But Lindsey couldn’t judge them. If they couldn’t afford him, they couldn’t afford him. It was also true—Gerard need some normalcy in his life, and there was nothing more average than a part-time job. All he needed was money for his own food and to help with utilities. They weren’t asking him to pay rent.

But Gerard didn’t seem capable of handling a job. He was shell-shocked and tried. Every fiber of his being was teeming with confusion and deep contemplation. In the last few months, Lindsey noticed, Gerard had started trying to think things over. He’d reasoned with himself, but still hadn’t managed to come to any conclusions. 

“What are you thinking about?” She’d asked him once.

“What I’m going to do about Frank and Mikey,” Gerard had said.

“What about them?”

“Mikey doesn’t like him at all. If I’m going to go anywhere near Frank, Mikey’s not going to like it and I’m going to have to deal with that… That and everything else.”

It showed that he was considering everything. Not a lot may have changed in his behavior when he’d left the institution, but a lot had shifted in his mind. He analyzed now when he had only panicked and forgotten before. He didn’t seem any angrier or any happier, but his ways of thinking had changed.

Lindsey guessed that that was some sort of improvement.

“Try to relax, okay?” Lindsey said as she hugged Gerard goodbye. She wasn’t really supposed to touch the patients, but if she got fired for hugging one of her best friends goodbye then this institution was just pure evil and she wanted nothing to do with their employment.

“I’ll be fine,” Gerard whispered to her.

“Just remember—I put my number in your phone. If you need me, _call me._ ” 

“Okay,” Gerard mumbled. His uncertainty was present all over his face and throughout his posture. He looked over his shoulder at Frank who was waiting by his car and then stared down at the ground. “He says he loves me,” Gerard whispered.

“He does,” Lindsey said affirmatively. “But you don’t have to love him right now, okay?”

“Okay,” Gerard answered.

“Don’t say anything you don’t mean—and don’t do anything you don’t want. Be good,” Lindsey said, patting Gerard on the shoulder and stepping back towards the institution. She bit back on the words ‘I love you’ even though she cared about him as much as she did the members of her family. He was like a brother to her now—or maybe even a son despite the fact that he was practically her age.

“Bye,” Gerard replied, turning towards Frank and lowering his head like a child on his way to the principal’s office at school. Lindsey felt bad for him, but there wasn’t anything she could do. He had to go home and the best home for him was with Frank.

Frank would love him, she hoped. Frank would take care of him—he’d better.

Lindsey stood on the sidewalk for a while after Frank’s car had driven off. She resisted the urge to follow it and slowly walked back inside to deal with the lunatics who went more insane from lesser crimes than what had been committed against Gerard.

( ) ( ) ( )

“I’ve got your things all put away for you, Gerard…do you want me to go out and get us something to eat for dinner?”

Gerard stared at the blank TV screen and thought of the best way to answer. Most of him wanted to just stay silent, but that would go against progress. He had to speak.

Fortunately, Frank was patient, and a three minutes period of silence was met wither neither interruption nor a sigh of annoyance from Frank.

“Can you pick me up some coffee?” Gerard asked. “And maybe…just a sandwich or something. Just…a salad or something. Just…maybe a soup cup. Just bread…or something.”

“Just a regular coffee?” Frank asked. 

“Yeah,” Gerard answered, glad his only friend hadn’t asked him to specify what kind of sandwich, what kind of salad, or what kind of soup or bread.

“Do you want me to just get you something light to eat? Are you not that hungry?”

“Yeah…I mean, no… I’m not that hungry.”

“I’ll go to the deli and get you a soup and sandwich, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Hot or cold sandwich?”

“Cold.”

“Cheesy soup or thin soup?”

“Cheesy,” Gerard mumbled. 

This was so simple. Frank didn’t even lose patience once. It was like he understood.

“I’ll be back in about forty-five minutes. Try to…unwind a little. If you want, you can take a nap.”

“Okay,” Gerard answered. He didn’t look away from the silent television until after Frank had already left the small apartment. 

Once he was gone, Gerard turned around on the couch and stared at the door.

He didn’t like being here by himself he realized about ten minutes after Frank had left. At the institution, he was never completely alone. He could always hear someone talking somewhere—except at night—but here, in this apartment, every one of Frank’s neighbors was deathly silent.

If Frank had invited him to go alone, he would’ve refused…but he would regret that decision now. He almost regretted not asking.

After half an hour, Gerard took out his cell phone and dialed Frank’s number. There was no forethought, just need.

“Hey,” Frank said. “Is everything okay?” Gerard stayed silent for a moment as he listened to Frank tell someone that he wanted two large coffees to go—one with hazelnut flavoring. “Gerard?”

“I was just…Are you going to be back soon?”

“Yeah,” Frank said. “I just got us our coffee—I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes. Is everything okay?”

“I was just…” Gerard simply quit speaking and hung up the phone. Frank would understand. 

It was about twenty minutes before Frank finally did arrive. Gerard got slowly up from the couch when he heard the door being unlocked and went to Frank’s aid when he struggled to balance the cups of coffee while opening the door.

“I got you a croissant sandwich and some broccoli cheese soup. The sandwich came with a free cookie, so I got you chocolate chip—you like that, right?”

“Yeah,” Gerard mumbled, taking the coffees into the tiny kitchen and setting them down by the sink. One had a large H scrawled on the side and Gerard took a quick sip from it before Frank appeared in the kitchen. Just as Frank entered the room, Gerard had returned the cup to the counter.

“I got some creamer from the coffee shop—I didn’t know if you wanted any,” Frank said, setting the bag from the deli down beside the drinks.

“I’m…hn.” Gerard didn’t really answer. He just grabbed the cup without the H and took a small sip. It was just as warm as Frank’s drink, but Frank’s tasted better…

“I’ll get some plates out for us. Do you want to eat in the living room or at the table?”

Gerard didn’t want to answer that.

“We’ll just eat at the table,” Frank said. His voice didn’t hold any tones of unhappiness or annoyance. It was like he was okay with his silent roommate. They weren’t together again—but they were at least in each other’s company.

Frank was making it look like that was enough for him…except that the apartment only had one bed.

Gerard ate his sandwich in silence, and watched as Frank dunked his (essentially) lettuce sandwich repeatedly into his tomato and basil soup. When he was finished with his sandwich, he played with the soup until it was cold enough to drink, then he broke apart his cookie and pushed half of it across the table towards Frank who didn’t have a dessert to go with his meal.

“Thanks,” Frank said quietly. “Do you want to watch a movie tonight?”

“Okay,” Gerard answered. He didn’t need to add on the ‘you pick’ part of the clause.

“Was your dinner okay?” Frank asked when the meal was done.

“It was…better,” Gerard answered. It was as positive an answer he could come up with.

“Then I’m glad,” Frank said, offering him a smile. Gerard stared at him in silence, taking in everything from the color of his skin to the new creases that were forming in his brow. Frank looked older, and it hadn’t even been that long since they were parted.

“I missed you,” Gerard said randomly was Frank walked past him, still sat at the kitchen table, to go into the living room. Frank froze on the spot and turned back toward Gerard. For a moment Gerard wondered if Frank hadn’t heard, but then the man had grabbed him into a tight hug and pushed a firm kiss against the top of his head.

The contact lasted for less than ten seconds, but it was powerful and it made Gerard understand that nothing had been lost. It was all still there, in Frank’s heart and in his own. The touch hadn’t scared him. He welcomed it. There was no one here threatening to remove Frank for being too intimate or too close. It was just them, on their own, naturally.

Frank didn’t say ‘I love you,’ but the words were present on the air. Gerard stared at him as he walked into the living room to pick out a movie.

This apartment was too small for them, but Gerard liked it. It was close, and it would force them to be close almost all the time. Gerard never felt like he experienced anything properly if he wasn’t forced into doing it, and this space filled that need perfectly without Frank even having to know. 

“Gerard, I’m gonna go to bed. Do you want the room? If not, I can sleep on the couch. Either way—it’s fine for me.”

Gerard stared at him silently. One of them was to sleep in the big bed alone, and the other was to try to fit on the tiny, impossible couch. Gerard didn’t like it…

“I can…sleep in the bed, too,” Gerard suggested. “I won’t…”

“You don’t have to, Gerard. I know that’s a pretty…that’s a really…big step.”

“We’ve done it before,” Gerard mumbled. “I’d feel bad if you had to…sleep on the couch all night when it’s your apartment.”

“It’s _your_ apartment too now.”

“But I don’t want you to sleep on the couch…” Gerard didn’t need to add that he didn’t want to sleep on the couch either. He was a human, and humans slept in beds.

“Well…if you wake up in the night and you feel uncomfortable, just let me know, okay? I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything. I just want you to be comfortable and safe, okay? I love you.”

Gerard lowered his eyes. He knew Frank said it out of habit, but the words stung the way words of affection weren’t supposed to. Love came with obligations, and responsibility was something Gerard had trouble handling.

“I’m sorry,” Frank said softly. “I just…I’m so happy you’re here again. I missed you.”

“I know,” Gerard answered.

“I don’t need you to love me, okay? I just want you to know that I’m _happy_ you’re here. Just you being here makes me _so_ happy. Okay?”

Gerard nodded. It was such a strange idea. Having someone as depressed, downcast, and miserable as he was around the apartment made Frank _happy?_ That had to be some kind of a miracle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter sounds like it's gearing up for an epilogue, but it is not.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I am taking so long with updates--it is my senior year at university and I have three jobs for my campus. I am very busy, but I haven't abandoned this or any other story!

_Chapter 18_

The mattress was different, but that didn’t change anything. When Gerard stared at the furniture, it was still the same furniture he’d been thrown against and pushed onto when Adam had attacked. Looking at the headboard was like staring straight into the past. He didn’t like it. He wanted it gone…

But it was Frank’s furniture and there was nothing he could do.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to sleep on the couch?” Frank asked quietly. Gerard managed to keep from flinching at the sound of his voice, but Frank still noticed his anxiety.

“I’ll be…I’ll be fine,” Gerard said. He didn’t step any closer to the bed, but watched it quietly as if excepting something to actually be projected from his mind. 

All of the horrors were still there, haunting him. Therapy had done nothing to save him from this…

This feeling of utter helplessness and shame.

He trembled when he remembered the pain delivered to him under the watch of that wooden bedframe. A broken nose, a broken wrist, and a broken body…a broken will.

He’d given in on that bed…hadn’t he? He’d stopped fighting and let Adam take what he wanted. It was his fault that it happened that way. He should’ve kept fighting. 

He shouldn’t have let Bob, of all the people in the world, show up and fight the battle for him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Frank asked softly.

“Yeah,” Gerard said, looking around for his pajamas and then taking them with him into the bathroom to change. He didn’t want Frank to see him. There wasn’t any part of him that was good to look at anyway.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard lay in the bed at Frank’s side, trying not to move in fear of getting too close, or appearing that he was trying to scoot farther away. 

Every now and then Frank would roll over and tug on the blankets, but Gerard kept a firm grip on the parts of the fabric that were his. If he got cold, he’d get sick. He didn’t want Frank to have to feel obligated to take care of him.

When the digital clock beside the bed showed four a.m., Gerard gave in and closed his eyes. He felt sleep immediately begin tugging at him, and he gave in to the soft darkness.

In the darkness, he could feel the warmth radiating from beside him, and he curled into it. He knew that it was another person, but he was tired and he didn’t care. The institution had been so cold and so uncomfortable…

Now he had a mattress that wasn’t broken in, blankets that were soft, and pillows that still had volume. It was so much better here, and Gerard wouldn’t trade it for anything.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank’s alarm went off at five-thirty, but it took him almost five minutes to get his hand out from under the blankets in order to turn it off. The beeping almost drove him insane, but there wasn’t anything he could do. 

Gerard had a hold of both his hands and wasn’t letting go for anything.

“Stay here,” Gerard whispered softly once the alarm was quiet and Frank was struggling to get out of the bed. 

His eyes were still closed, and Frank couldn’t tell if he was still asleep or just trying to act that way.

“I have to go, Gerard. I’m sorry—I couldn’t take today off work, but I’m off tomorrow, okay?”

“Don’t go,” Gerard whimpered, pulling on Frank’s hand harder and folding it against his chest.

Frank sighed and sat back down on the bed. He still had time to get ready, and even if Gerard stalled him for an hour, he’d still be at work on time.

“I have to, Gerard. It’ll be okay.” He reached out to gently stroke his ex-lover’s hair. He didn’t know how he expected Gerard to react, but all his actions did was make Gerard moan in annoyance. “Please let me go—I have to take a shower.”

“Don’t…don’t leave yet,” Gerard said quietly.

“Gerard, I have to go to work. I’ll be back tonight, and I’ll call first and see what you want for dinner.”

“I don’t want dinner,” Gerard complained. “I want you to stay here…” Gerard kept his eyes closed and squeezed Frank’s hand firmly. 

“I can’t stay,” Frank said. “I’ll be back. Gerard, you’ve gotta let me go.”

Slowly, Gerard relaxed his grip and Frank was able to pull away. 

“Will you come home for lunch?” Gerard asked, finally opening his eyes. It was then that Frank could see just how lonely he was. He looked the same as he had the night Frank had taken him in all those years ago. He looked dejected and lost…like he had no one else in the world except for Frank to keep him company.

“I can’t…but you can always call Mikey or Ray. Ray doesn’t have work today if you want.”

“I just…”

“Just try to be patient, okay?” Frank said, looking around the floor. Bear was sleeping on the floor at the foot of the bed, not even bothered by the alarm that had gone off. “Here,” Frank said, picking the dog up off the floor. He set it in the bed next to Gerard and kissed his ex-boyfriend on the cheek. “Play with the boys. They’ll keep you company.”

Bear didn’t even protest to being repositioned. He just laid back down beside Gerard’s face and closed his eyes again.

“I don’t want to stay here,” Gerard mumbled. “…all day.”

“Do you want to go out for dinner?” Frank asked, watching as Gerard pulled the small dog closer to him. 

“No…”

“I can’t take you in to work with me…”

“I know,” Gerard whispered. He looked like he might start to cry and Frank bit into his lip.

“I have an hour long lunch break at 1:30. If you want, I can ask Ray if he’ll bring you and we can eat lunch together.”

“You don’t…have to do that,” Gerard said. He still looked pained and Frank closed his eyes.

“I want you to come visit me. I mean, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ll just be in the way,” Gerard said softly. “I don’t…I don’t want to go.” 

Frank tried to keep from looking hurt and nodded slowly.

“Okay,” Frank said softly. “I won’t force you. I just thought I’d offer.”

“I’m…I’m fine. Just…just go to work.”

“Gerard, I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay here all day by yourself…”

“I’ll be okay,” Gerard mumbled, curling up in the blankets with Bear in his arms.

“I’m worried about you,” Frank said, watching Gerard try not to crumble. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re not allowed out of the house…or feel like I don’t want to see you.”

“Please, just go to work,” Gerard whimpered. 

Frank sighed and stared for the bathroom to take his shower. As soon as he closed the door, he heard Gerard let out a low wail and Bear’s toenails clicked as he jumped down onto the floor.

He wished that he could _force_ Gerard to open up to him again, but there was nothing he could do. He knew that… He knew he couldn’t make Gerard feel loved and safe again without proving himself all over again.

But he loved Gerard, and he would do whatever it took to win him…

( ) ( ) ( )

It took Gerard three hours to force himself out of Frank’s bed once Frank had left for work. He couldn’t bear to think about how truly rude he had been to Frank. All Frank wanted was for them to eat lunch together, and Gerard had freaked out for no reason.

Part of him wanted to call Ray and ask him to give him a ride to Frank’s restaurant, but he was too ashamed to even look at his phone. Ray had come to visit him once in the institution, but it hadn’t been pleasant and it just left Gerard feeling embarrassed.

Once he crawled out of the bed, he pulled on a pair of baggy jeans and one of Frank’s old t-shirts which he’d stolen from the laundry basket. It smelled like sweat and, ultimately, like Frank.

He would change before Frank got home, but in the meantime it made him feel comfortable. It made him miss Frank’s presence just a little bit less. If he could smell Frank, it was like he was still around…maybe just in the other room.

Gerard took Bear and Pig outside to use the bathroom and watched the street carefully. He kept his ears focused on the noises behind him while scanning the street for anyone who looked threatening or familiar. 

No one approached him, but he was quick to get the dogs and himself back into the apartment building as quickly as possible. It was strange being outside after spending so long in the institute. The people on the streets all looked threatening, even the old men and women. Even they could be decoys for someone evil…

Gerard gave the dogs some treats after bringing them inside and began cleaning up the kitchen slowly. He washed the plates in the sink and then started wiping down the counter. It didn’t take long for him to get back into the role of housekeeper. If Frank made the money to keep the apartment, Gerard would do his part to keep the apartment clean.

In days past he would have been able to clean the entire apartment easily before Frank returned home from work, but those days were gone. Now, Gerard worked slowly. The only thoroughly cleaned room was the kitchen—but he didn’t even mop the floor—and he’d only picked up the bedroom and living room to make them a little bit more presentable. 

He used to have a hidden fear that his “keeper” would be angry with him if he didn’t keep the house spotless. It was the product of years of training…now he didn’t really care if the house was clean or not. He did it out of boredom and habit…and because he wanted Frank’s attention when he got home.

Just a little positive attention.

He missed Lindsey. She would always come in and just have conversations with him. Gerard missed that friendship. He knew he could talk to Frank, but it wouldn’t be the same. Frank would want to talk about serious things, and simple things would just be forced.

Gerard wished they could just pretend nothing ever happened and meet at the store again. Then they could go home without any tension, make love…maybe…and then just watch TV without worrying about calculating the damages.

Just as Gerard sat down on the couch after finishing alphabetizing the DVD rack, he heard Frank’s key rattle in the lock and he turned around to stare at the door.

“Hey, how was your day?” Frank asked as he opened the door.

“Fine,” Gerard answered. “What…what about you?”

“It was pretty good,” Frank said. “We hired a few new girls today, but training went really smooth.”

“Girls?” Gerard asked. For some reason, the words made him feel threatened. It made no sense…it aggravated him that a simple sentence could spark such bad feelings.

“Yeah. They’re high school kids, but they don’t seem stupid, so hopefully we won’t have all the drama we had with the last bunch we had.”

“Girls?” Gerard repeated again. Frank stared at him in silent confusion. 

“Yeah…girls,” Frank said after a moment. “Gerard, what’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing,” Gerard said, lowering his eyes. He was waiting for the explosion—for Frank to yell or break this friendly, respectful composure he’d adopted for the past couple of days—but it didn’t come.

“Are you…are you hungry? Do you want dinner?”

“Yeah,” Gerard whispered. “Um…you’re out of coffee.”

“Oh…I thought I bought more. I’ll go to the store tonight and pick some up—do you want to go out for dinner?”

Gerard shook his head and sank down deeper on the couch.

“Do you know what you want to eat?”

“No,” Gerard murmured.

Frank fell silent and Gerard waited. He knew Frank’s patience was going to wear out. He was ready for Frank to throw something or smash something—throw a fist or a kick. Even the other patients in the institution had gotten sick of his behaviors. 

No one liked him…not really. Not once they got past his “pretty” face.

“I…I was thinking maybe I’d order a pizza.”

“Okay,” Gerard whispered. Frank didn’t say anything more. He got out his phone and got the delivery place on the line. He didn’t even ask Gerard what toppings he wanted, but it was all the same anyway. Gerard would eat whatever…he’d eaten out of the trash before when he’d lived with his master.

Gerard hadn’t expected it when Frank sat down beside him on the couch. He was prepared for Frank to walk into the bedroom and leave him alone feeling sick, depressed and guilty. Bur Frank stayed.

“They’re talking about giving me a raise at work,” Frank said as he turned on the television. 

“That’s…good,” Gerard said. “Will you have to put in more hours?”

“Well…they’re not sure yet. I’m…I’m kind of excited. The franchise owner really likes me and…I think he might help me take over when he retires. It could be my restaurant.”

“I thought you wanted to make music,” Gerard said. He bit his lip once the words were out. 

“I do, but this is what I have going for me right now. The band is recuperating, you know? Something pretty bad happened to our lead singer and we don’t want to push him.”

“Push him?” Gerard asked, not sure why Frank was trying to speak about his in third person.

“Yeah. We don’t want him to think we care more about the band than him. We want him to have all the time he needs. I can always be part of the band, but it’s not every day someone almost offers to give you a franchise.”

“You started as a server,” Gerard said. There was affection in his voice because it _was_ possible for him to appreciate all of Frank’s work. Gerard never amounted to anything, and to see Frank succeed just a little bit made him happy. 

And jealous.

He really wished he’d had a chance to live a life that was somewhat normal. He wanted so badly to just be like everyone else. He didn’t want to be a victim and to be treated with respect like a victim—and tiptoed around like a victim.

That was why he liked Bob before…because Bob was the only one who didn’t baby him and act like he was made of glass. Bob wasn’t sympathetic beyond his means, and he wasn’t about to stop his life at the drop of a hat just because Gerard was upset.

Frank wasn’t about to get another promotion because he was weak and pathetic…he succeeded because he was a better man, and Gerard was hardly a man at all.

He was barely even human.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and before Frank could even stand up from the couch, Gerard had fallen onto the floor. Memories flooded back, and pain tore through him even though nothing was hurt. No one was touching him, but it felt like he was being cut apart. 

“Baby, it’s just the pizza,” Frank said, immediately at Gerard’s side and helping him back onto the seat. “Are you okay?”

Gerard nodded quickly and wrapped his arms around himself. He didn’t like to be afraid. 

“Are you sure?” Frank asked, rubbing Gerard’s shoulders.

“Yeah,” Gerard whispered. 

The person at the door knocked again and Gerard squeezed his eyes shut.

It was just pizza…he knew it wasn’t Adam or Master or anyone else, but he just kept waiting for someone to smash the door in and attack.

“I’ll be right back, Gerard. It’s okay. Just be calm, okay?” 

Frank rubbed Gerard’ shoulder one last time and then walked away towards the door of the small apartment.

Gerard laid himself down across the couch and tried not to tremble. He hated himself so much for this…

How weak of a person was he?

“Oh…Um, hi…” Frank sounded concerned, and Gerard immediately sat back up. 

“Frank?” He asked. He couldn’t hear the voice of the person at the door, and his heart began racing. He heard Frank mumbling and he slowly stood up from the couch. His legs were shaking unbearably. “Frank?” He asked again, slowly creeping towards the door. Frank’s body blocked his view, and that was the only reassuring sign.

The person was short, and no one who was a known threat was shorter than Frank.

“Frank?” Gerard pressed, not getting close enough to see. Afraid that he was wrong and that there was someone to be afraid of. 

“It’s okay, Gerard,” Frank said, turning back from the door.

Lindsey was standing outside of the apartment, holding a big plastic bag in her hands. 

It was his best friend—the only friend he’d ever made on his own. He thought they’d gone their separate ways and that he wouldn’t get to see her again. 

“Hey, Gerard,” Lindsey said, shouldering past Frank and coming inside. “I thought that it’d been a while since you’d had one of our frozen salads, so I brought you one.” She started laughing and pulled Gerard into a hug that he wasn’t prepared for. “Why are you shaking?”

She pulled back and Gerard just shrugged. He looked at Frank as he closed the apartment door. Frank looked irritated.

“Just…it’s cold,” Gerard said, pulling away from Lindsey. He didn’t know how to react. His entire life, he’d only known lovers, Frank, and Frank’s friends. He’d never made a good friend of his own, and he didn’t know if Frank would approve, or how Frank would react if he thought he was being replaced.

The last thing he wanted was thrown out on the street because Lindsey made Frank unhappy. 

“I didn’t actually get you a salad,” Lindsey said, smiling and showing herself to the couch and sitting down. Gerard followed her, trying to avoid Frank’s gaze. 

Lindsey began rustling through the big plastic bag and pulled out a large, zip-up sweater.

“I don’t really know what clothes you wear, but I saw this on sale and I thought you would like it.” She pushed the sweater into Gerard’s hands and smiled at him. 

Gerard held it uncertainly and looked over at Frank who was leaning against the wall. It made Gerard feel guilty even though it was Frank who chose to exclude himself from the conversation. 

“Do you like it?” Lindsey pressed. “You’ve gotta practice talking or you’re going to lose your voice.”

“It’s…cool,” Gerard said as he unfolded the sweater and looked it over. It had a red and black print, but was pretty basic. It didn’t call too much attention, and Gerard liked that. He didn’t like to be seen.

“Are you okay?” Lindsey asked. “You’re really pale.” 

Gerard shook his head and Lindsey’s eyes became analytical. She glanced over the back of the couch and looked at Frank, and then scooted closer to Gerard on the couch.

“Did I come at a bad time?” She whispered. 

“I’m…It scared me when you knocked,” Gerard admitted. “Frank’s expecting pizza—we’re having pizza for dinner.”

“Okay,” Lindsey said. “Um, do you want to hang out sometime this week? I’m off every other morning, but I work most nights…Maybe we could get lunch sometime.”

“I don’t…have any money.”

“Gerard, I’ll treat you—you’re my friend. It’s just lunch—not a four course dinner. What’s the matter?”

“I’m…I’m just anxious,” Gerard muttered. “It’s fine. I just…What mornings are you free?” Gerard asked. 

“Well, I don’t work tomorrow morning…”

“No—No, Frank has tomorrow off. I…I’m going to spend the day with Frank.”

“You don’t have to,” Frank said, leaving for the bedroom and closing the door quietly behind him. It was a small gesture, but it broke Gerard’s heart. He didn’t know if Frank was angry or hurt, or just surprised, but he didn’t want Frank feeling jealous or cheated.

“Okay, what about the next morning I have off—Friday?”

“Okay,” Gerard said quickly. 

“Is he okay?” Lindsey asked, gesturing to the bedroom door.

“I think,” Gerard mumbled. 

“Are you guys fighting?”

“I don’t think so,” Gerard said. Her inquiries just made him more anxious, and it took all of his willpower not to follow Frank into the bedroom and hide with him. “I got…knocking on the door scared me. I started thinking about…about things and he was worried and, I don’t know, maybe he’s jealous?”

“Oh, I’m sorry—do you want me to talk to him? When I showed up he just said you were nervous. He didn’t seem mad or anything. He didn’t try to ask me to leave, or make it look like he wanted me to go.”

“I don’t know,” Gerard mumbled. “I don’t read Frank well anymore. I…I still love him and everything, but…We’re not going to be like before.”

“Have you signed up with one of the post-release therapists? They can help you talk about it.”

Gerard lowered his eyes, feeling slighted. It felt like Lindsey didn’t want to hear him speak, that she just came to see him off and disappear. 

“I haven’t yet…I just want to be normal.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen. Your life isn’t normal, Gerard. You have to accept that you need special care. _Everyone_ needs special things to get through life—for me, it’s being close to my patients. If I can’t visit them, I feel like I’m gonna die. I want to make sure they’re okay, forever and not just while they’re with me. For you, it’s going to be talking with someone who knows how to help. On your own, you just…Gerard, you self-destruct. You rip yourself down, you tell yourself that no one likes you, and you try to run away.”

“I know,” Gerard said, looking back at the bedroom door. “I feel like I wear him down. I don’t see why he keeps me.”

“Because he loves you,” Lindsey said softly, reaching out to touch Gerard’s shoulder. “It doesn’t have to be constant _romance,_ you know? It can be calm…calm _support._ I think…I think it hurts his feelings that I’m here talking to you, because he’s afraid he’ll hurt you if he asks too much. And I think he’s just as afraid of hurting you as you are of hurting him.”

“I know,” Gerard said, scooting closer to her. 

“Make me a promise, okay?” Lindsey said, offering Gerard a too-large smile. 

“What?” Gerard asked, knowing what she wants to say. 

“Whenever you’re feeling hurt because he’s distant or you’ve made a mistake, just talk to him okay? You need to start communicating, because when you don’t, you start getting depressed and you break your own heart.”

“Okay,” Gerard said, looking down at floor. 

“You’ve gotta fight this, Gerard. So many people love you, like me and your brother and Frank…we want to see you get better. It’s your time now. All the cards are on the table, you know? You remember, you’re being cared for, and there are a lot of people ready to come to you if you ever need to talk.”

“I just feel really…I’m out of place. Most people grow up, and go to school and waste their lives planning some kind of future. I never had that. I never planned for anything, and now I don’t have time.”

“Yes you do,” Lindsey said firmly. “You’ve got all the time in the world. You can go to college, you can start some kind of internship—you can do a lot of things.”

“I want the band,” Gerard whispered. “Everyone wants it, but I can’t sing. I…I can write, but when I sing I remember.”

“Gerard, you have to let those memories go—let them be a part of you, but not control you. I know it’s hard. You can’t live in the past though. They’re in jail—no one else is gonna hurt you, and if they do, they’re gonna have to answer to me, and Frank, and your whole family.”

“I know that,” Gerard said. “But you don’t know what it’s like to see those things when you shut your eyes. It’s everywhere. _Everything._ ”

“That’s why you need to see the therapist, Gerard. I can listen, and I can advise as best I can, but I don’t really know what will help. You have to relearn life as a free person. You have to disassociate things you’ve been taught to associate with hurt and pain and abuse…It’ll be okay, though. It’ll be okay.”

“I just don’t want Frank to give up on me,” Gerard said quietly. “I know…I know I’m hard to live with, and I know what it’s like to be around me.”

“He’s keeping you in his apartment, he’s taking care of you—does that sound like someone who wants you to go away?”

“No,” Gerard said softly.

There came another knock on the door, and Gerard only flinched. 

“That’ll be your pizza,” Lindsey said, offering a soft smile. 

Frank came out of the bedroom and went straight to the door without looking in Gerard’s direction.

“I’ll let you guys eat, and I’ll come by Friday morning. I’ll knock in a funny pattern so you know it’s me.” She hugged him goodbye and nodded to Frank as she left. As soon as she was gone, Gerard felt consumed with guilt. 

He didn’t get much time with Frank, and now there was another person encroaching upon it. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard got out of the shower and fluffed his hair gently with the towel. Dinner didn’t go over badly, but they only spoke in hushed voices and Gerard was sure Frank was mad at him.

It wasn’t his fault that Lindsey had come over…he hadn’t asked her. She’d just shown up.

He dropped the towel into the basket and pulled on his pajama pants, ignoring his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t want to look at his body. He didn’t want reminded…

Once he’d pulled on his night shirt, Gerard opened the bathroom door and walked slowly into the bedroom. 

His mind immediately went to a different bedroom at a different time…a much more lavish bedroom, with a much wealthier man.

His master would wait for him after he’d showered, and immediately make him filthy again. 

Gerard tried to focus on Frank, nestled in the bed sheets.

“Hey,” Gerard said softly, trying to break the double vision forming in his brain. He wanted to stay in the real and not go back to that other place.

“Hey,” Frank said, setting aside the magazine he’d been reading and shifting over on the bed to be closer to the lamp.

Gerard looked down at the floor and crept towards the bed, trying not to feel forced or compelled. Sometimes it was easy to just lie down and sleep, sometimes it felt like torture.

“Talk to me,” Gerard said as he slowly sat down at the foot of the bed.

“Talk to you?” Frank asked. “What’s wrong?”

Gerard stared at the floor and tried not to think about anything other than Frank’s voice. 

“Just…just talk.” Gerard began wringing his hands and closed his eyes tightly. He kept seeing his master’s bed, and feeling his master’s touch…. He was _missing_ that man, and it made him feel sick.

“Um…pizza was good today,” Frank said. 

“Yeah,” Gerard answered, nodding and feeling like he might throw up.

“What do you want to do tomorrow? I have the day off…we could go shopping or something. Or…or—oh! We could rent some movies and have a movie night. That’d be fun, don’t you think?”

“I’d like that…” Gerard said softly. 

He wasn’t with Frank anymore, though. He was lost in his master’s bed sheets, being held and touched and made to do things he would’ve done willingly if he’d been given the chance.

“You gotta be quiet,” a voice said—a voice which wasn’t in the room. “I can’t stand it when you scream like that.”

“But it’s hurting,” Gerard whispered. He felt himself sobbing, but there weren’t any tears on his face.

“Shh. It’ll be better if you’d lay still. Just lay still!”

“It’s hurting,” Gerard cried. “What do you want me to do?” He pleaded. The pain lessened and his master ran a soft hand across his cheek.

“You want me to stop?” Master asked. Gerard begged him. “Let me fuck your mouth, then I won’t hurt you.”

Gerard moaned in agony. He didn’t want that—but he didn’t want hurt.

“Okay,” he sobbed. “Please—please…okay, anything. _Anything._ ”

Master never got this rough…

_That_ rough! _That rough!_

“Gerard, what’s wrong?”

Gerard shifted back against Frank’s body as Frank pulled him back up the bed.

“What is it? Gerard, what’s wrong?” Frank asked.

“Hold me,” Gerard whimpered. Frank’s arms encircled him and held him tight. 

“What’s wrong?” Frank asked softly. “What?”

“Bad memories,” Gerard whimpered, glancing around the room quickly and trying to feel the comfort of Frank’s embrace. “Keep me safe.”

“I am,” Frank said softly. “I’m here—what’s the matter? Is it…is it Adam, honey?”

“No,” Gerard said, trying to shake back those images too. “Please, don’t ask—just hold me.”

“Okay,” Frank said softly, holding him tight and nuzzling his hair.

It was like before, Gerard tried to think. It was like when Frank first took him home. Comfort, warmth, and safety…

No, the _illusion_ of safety.

Nowhere was safe from this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the return of Bob in chapter 19! Also, I promise much more action in chapters 19-21. Be warned--be ready!


	19. Chapter 19

_Chapter 19_

Gerard writhed on the mattress, hands pinning him down from all over—his wrists, his ankles, his knees—and he felt cold, wet tongues running up his throat. He screamed, but no one listened. The torture continued. He felt someone running a hand up his thigh and cupping him. He screamed again when something was pushed inside of him, and he wept when he was told his new master was in the room now…

He cried and cried, and panted and breathed—trying so hard to die and live all in the same frantic moment.

He didn’t want sold to any of these people—he didn’t want sold to anyone, and he didn’t want to stay here in this living hell. 

The thing inside of him was shoved further and Gerard’s wail bled off into a silent scream. 

“He sounds like a girl—God, he sounds like a fuckin’ girl!”

Gerard was punched in the face for no reason and his head lolled against the hard table beneath him. He was punished for his crying, and tortured for being in pain.

“Kill me,” Gerard breathed, not realizing at the time that the words saved his life. “Just kill me, please. Let me die—I just want to be dead.”

The pain had overtaken so much of him that he couldn’t even cry anymore. 

“This thing is broken,” a man said. The object was ripped out of his body and Gerard was thrown from the table to the floor when he screamed. “You broke the fuckin’ whore! I don’t want a fucking dead sack of bones!”

Gerard’s hand was stomped on and he tried to crawl under the table for refuge. He was grabbed by his hair and pulled back out.

“He’s not broken,” the evil man said. “He’s just shy—the slut’s shy.”

The man’s attempt at a soothing voice didn’t calm either the slut or the buyer.

“You killed this one Tom—you fuckin’ killed this one. I said I wanted a kid anyway—this one’s old. It’s disgusting. Bathe it next time.”

Gerard stared at the man as he walked away and trembled in the hands of his trainer.

“Fucking whore!” The man screamed, tossing Gerard onto the ground as soon as the man disappeared up the basement stairs. The other men around shuffled away, not paying any attention to Gerard’s screaming or his wails when the man shoved the uncomfortable object into his mouth after it had been on the floor and in his body.

Gerard tried to swat the hands away, desperate to get the repulsive object out of his mouth even though he knew his beating would be severe.

“Fine—you want somethin’ else? You want somethin’ else, fucking whore!?” The object was ripped out of his mouth and his trainer began unbuttoning his jeans. “Come on—do it or I bash your skull in.”

Gerard fought, trying to turn his face away, but having it turned back. He was struck, his hair was pulled, his stomach was kicked and finally, sorrowfully, he turned his head forward and let the man thrust into his mouth.

The reality hit him then. 

This was his life…

This was all it was ever going to be.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard woke up gasping for air. He couldn’t breathe—no air would come. No matter how hard he gasped, his throat was closed and he couldn’t get anything to his lungs. He sat up and choked silently, trying to get air—trying to get anything.

Desperately, he started thrashing an arm at Frank’s side of the bed, hopeful that somehow Frank would wake up and be able to save him. 

“Gerard?—hey, what’s wrong? What’s wrong?” Frank had his hands around Gerard’s shoulders in an instant, trying to calm him, not realizing that he was suffocating. “Hey—hey! Just calm down. Gerard, you need to calm down—calm down!”

Gerard got a small bit of air in his lungs just as his vision became spotty. The air was enough to make him cough.

“Honey, stop. Try to hold your breath, let your throat relax. Just be calm. Try, okay? Try.”

It was hard to try when Frank was panicking, too. He did what he could, though. He held his breath for a fraction of a second and then coughed until he got enough air in his lungs to feed his brain.

“What happened? Gerard, do you need to go to the hospital?” Frank stared at Gerard in shock, just as scared as his lover was. 

“No,” Gerard gasped. “Bad dream,” he said before he broke into a sob. “A really bad dream.” Gerard buried his head in his hands and wept. His soul was aching, and he felt raw and sick to his stomach.

Everything hurt. All of him hurt…

“Okay,” Frank said quietly, rubbing Gerard’s back as he collapsed into tears. “I’m here, Gerard. You know I’m here for you if you want to talk about it—you don’t have to.”

“Not going to,” Gerard wept. “Please.”

“I won’t make you,” Frank said calmly. “I just…I was scared. Are you okay?”

“No,” Gerard cried. “Never.”

Frank sat at Gerard’s side in silence as Gerard exposed the most broken shards of his soul. His crying was uncontrollable and so close to hysteria that Frank was afraid for him. He knew Gerard needed to let himself break, and Frank had to let it happen. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard had managed to fall back asleep around seven-thirty that morning. His terror and hysteria had fled around five, but it took him a long time to become calm enough to sleep.

Frank stayed at his side, not even getting up once Gerard had gone back to sleep, even though he was becoming restless and lying in bed felt like torture. Gerard needed him, and there was no telling if he was going to fall back into desperation when he woke up again or not.

Besides, it was his day off and there was nothing else to do. He’d promised Gerard that they would spend this day together, and if Gerard was sleeping…Frank would too.

Except he couldn’t sleep. Whatever Gerard had dreamed had been so horrible that it left the man in anguish… He’d cried all night.

In his sleep, Gerard curled closer to Frank on the bed. Frank looked over at him and placed a gentle kiss on top of his head. It was his only wish that his gestures could actually soothe Gerard, but he knew that it was hopeless. Gerard was broken into thousands of pieces, and no amount of affection was going to stitch him back together.

Gerard groaned in his sleep, but it didn’t sound like discomfort. It sounded like he was trying to speak, but his mouth was too tired to even let out fragments of the words.

The groaning was followed by a soft sigh and Gerard’s body became even more lax against the bed.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank came back to the apartment with two boxes of pizza and a small bag of rented DVDs. It had been hard getting Gerard out of bed that morning, but he’d eventually managed. Gerard still seemed happy to have the day together, and even reminded Frank that they were going to get a pizza. 

He refused to say what kind of movie he wanted to watch, so Frank just grabbed a mixture of comedy, romance, horror, and dramas to keep the options open. He was hoping Gerard would go for one of the comedies, but he wasn’t going to sway Gerard one way or the other. It was _Gerard’s_ night.

“Gerard, I got the pizza,” Frank called. “And a lot of movies—I got you a lot of movies.”

“I’m starving,” Gerard said, creeping into the kitchen after Frank set the boxes down on the counter.

“Eat as much as you want, Gee,” Frank said with a smile, pressing a gentle kiss on Gerard’s cheek as he reached for a plate from the cupboard. Gerard’s lips twitched with a smile, and that was enough to make Frank happy. “I got two because, you know me—I eat like a pig.”

Hearing his name, the fat pug dog ran into the kitchen, wagging his curled tail.

“Hey, Pig,” Gerard said, setting his plate on the counter and stooping down to pet the wrinkly dog. “Hey, fat boy. You want pizza too, don’t you?”

Frank put pizza on both his and Gerard’s plates and closed up the boxes. Bear ran into the kitchen, thinking Pig was getting free food, and Gerard occupied himself with petting the both of them.

“Do you know what kind of movie you want to watch?” Frank asked.

“I don’t…whatever you want, Frank,” Gerard said. His voice was sad, and his petting of the dogs became slower. “I don’t make decisions…”

“Gerard…I want you to pick,” Frank said, smiling. Gerard looked up at him sadly. “Gerard, I just want…I just want you to be happy. I want _you_ to have this day.”

“And I want you to pick. Frank, I don’t care what we watch. I just…I just wanted pizza—I just want to sit with you.”

“Okay,” Frank said, smiling softly. “How about a comedy?”

“Okay,” Gerard answered, still petting Bear and Pig. It was like he was trying to stall as long as possible.

“I got a lot of movies,” Frank said. 

“Okay,” Gerard said, standing up and taking his plate off the counter. “I’ll…go turn on the TV.”

It was obvious that Gerard never really paid attention to the movies Frank put in. He just stared at the wall behind the television and laughed whenever Frank did. He ate slowly, but managed to eat most of a large pizza on his own.

Once Frank put the plates away, he returned to the couch slowly. Gerard was still staring emptily at the wall and Frank felt sorry for him. He was trying to be engaged—or trying to pretend he was interested—and it looked like he knew he was failing.

It surprised him when Gerard leaned over onto his shoulder. Frank kissed the top of his head and smiled when Gerard sighed softly. Gerard was asleep within fifteen minutes. 

Even though he’d hoped Gerard would be more interactive, it was just as fulfilling to have Gerard show trust. He napped that way, his head on Frank’s shoulder, for about forty minutes, and only stirred when the dogs started barking at each other. 

“Mmm...Oh, I missed the movie,” Gerard moaned, yawning and burying his face in his hands. “Sorry, I’m tired.”

“It’s okay—you looked peaceful.”

“I dreamt I was doing laundry…it wasn’t very peaceful.”

Frank laughed and kissed Gerard’s cheek. 

“Do you want to watch another one?” Frank asked, picking up the bag of DVDs on the floor. 

“Sure…just pick one at random. We’ll be surprised.” Frank drew a random horror film and put it in. As soon as the film started playing, Gerard’s head was back on his shoulder and within thirty minutes, he was back asleep.

( ) ( ) ( )

If there was ever a time that Frank felt he was about to lose his patience with Gerard, it was now…

He was trying to go to bed, but Gerard was refusing to allow it. Logic had no effect on his behavior, reasoning did nothing, and all Gerard had to say was, “No, please—I don’t get to see you. I just want you to stay up with me.”

But Frank couldn’t stay up because he had work—work which struggled to pay for an apartment and two people. 

“Gerard, it’s not my fault you napped all day and that you’re not tired. I am, and I have work tomorrow. I’m sorry—I’ve gotta go to bed. We can spend time together again tomorrow at dinner.”

But Gerard just looked hurt. It was like he took it personally. He _had_ to know by now that Frank didn’t leave to punish him or to make him feel isolated.

“I just…we don’t get to see each other anymore…”

“Gerard, I’m at _work,_ ” Frank pleaded, pulling back the covers and getting into bed. Gerard followed him, and it was only apparent that he wasn’t going to let him sleep. “Come on…you know I have to work.”

“But it’s your day off, can’t you stay up late?”

“No,” Frank argued, wrapping his blanket over his head and trying to block the other man out. He loved him, but he was tired this was ridiculous. “I have off again in a couple days. Don’t act like this…”

Gerard was quiet and Frank dared a look at him in the dim room. His face was calculating, but more sad than anything. It was like he’d come to some sort of conclusion, and it was slowly hurting him worse and worse with each passing second.

“What?” Frank asked quietly, pushing the blanket away from his face.

“Nothing,” Gerard said, biting his lip and lying down heavily on the bed next to Frank. He rolled over so his back was to him, making Frank sigh as he fell into some sort of scheme or another. By refusing to answer, Gerard had to know Frank would stay up to pressure him…

“Gerard,” Frank said firmly, not wanting to play the game. He regretted his tone instantly.

“Leave me alone!” Gerard cried, sounding like he was in pain. “Just let it go! I’m going to bed—just…just shut up.”

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Frank asked softly, rolling over and placing a hand on Gerard’s shoulder. “What?”

Gerard whimpered, and Frank hadn’t expected him to give in as easily as he did.

“I…I just know that this night would’ve gone a lot different if I were normal,” Gerard said, beginning to weep. 

Frank shushed him and pressed a gentle kiss onto the top of his head.

“What are you talking about? Honey, tonight was fine. So what if you were tired? You had a bad night last night…”

“No,” Gerard whimpered. “If I were…If I were normal, and this was our date, we would…” Gerard started sobbing and covered his face with his hands.

Frank sighed heavily and rested his head on Gerard’s shoulder. He’d been expecting something like this to happen, but not so soon…not _this_ soon.

“Gerard, don’t think about it like that. I’ve told you over and over, _that’s not what’s important to me._ Okay? We’ll get there when we get there—don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“I just want it to be like it was,” Gerard whimpered. “I want to go back to when we were together and I didn’t know…”

Frank sighed and began to stroke Gerard’s hair in hopes of keeping him calm.

“It’ll go back to that again,” Frank said. “It will, you just can’t force it. It’ll happen, and you won’t expect it, and you’ll know you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere.”

Gerard didn’t sound consoled, but there wasn’t much Frank could do but lie there and hold him.

“I really wish he’d killed me,” Gerard wept. “I know I shouldn’t say that, but I do… I really can’t take this.”

“Gerard, I _love_ you. I know that doesn’t change how you feel, and I don’t expect it to, but understand that. I’ve seen what you’ve been through; I don’t blame you for anything. I’m willing to wait for you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Gerard sobbed. He rolled over and buried his head in Frank’s chest and continued to cry as Frank held him. “I’m afraid…”

“It’s okay,” Frank said. 

“I don’t want to be alone again—when I was in the hospital, nobody talked to me before Lindsey came. Nobody! They _hated_ me… People _hate_ me, Frank. I never _had_ that before. Master was mean, but he _loved_ me—he loved me, Frank. A-And Adam, he was just jealous. No one hated me before I went there…”

“They don’t know you,” Frank said firmly. “You need to calm down. I’m here. I love you—you shouldn’t care about what those people think. They’re nobodies, and if they can’t see what’s great about you, then fuck ‘em. I love you.”

“I wished you’d come see me, but…I couldn’t ask,” Gerard whimpered. “I was…I hated it. I knew they couldn’t help me.”

“I’ll help you,” Frank said. “It was job the first time. That’s what I’m here for.”

“It’s not a _job,_ ” Gerard said quietly. “You don’t have to stay stuck with me.”

“You don’t understand,” Frank said, holding Gerard tighter. “I was _put here_ to help you. You’re _mine._ ”

Gerard moaned softly and tried to fight the tight hug, but Frank wouldn’t let go. Eventually, Gerard just relaxed and let it happen.

“Like you said in the hospital?” Gerard mumbled.

“Hm?” Frank asked, staring at the wall.

“That…that no one else is good enough for you but me?”

That was a desperate moment Frank wished he could forget. He’d been so overcome with sorrow and grief that he’d relied on the only tactic he knew to make Gerard want to come home—he ordered him. He controlled him. 

“That’s right,” Frank whispered. “Nobody but you.”

“Why?”

“Because I was put here for you. No one else makes me feel that way.”

Gerard made a soft sound and let one of his ankles overlap Frank’s.

“I don’t want anyone else either,” Gerard whispered. “I don’t want to…have to explain it all over again.”

“Hush,” Frank said, ducking his chin in order to give Gerard a soft kiss. “Don’t think about it. Just try to sleep.”

Gerard sighed and relaxed against the pillow. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard dreamt about being raped again, but that was nothing new…

Frank had gotten up, showered, kissed him goodbye, and left… Left him alone in the tiny apartment to care for the dogs that barked continuously after Frank left. 

Gerard started picking up the house a little. He did the dishes and sorted the laundry although he didn’t know where the washing machines were in the apartment complex and wouldn’t leave to go there if he did.

After the dishes were done and the kitchen was cleaned, Gerard was prepared to start on the bathroom after making something to eat for lunch. The time moved faster when he kept busy, and he was determined to prove to Frank that he could be independent if he had to—he wasn’t just a clingy, crying mess. 

He got lonely, and he couldn’t help it, but he could learn to hide it better instead of hurting himself and filling Frank with guilt…

Frank had to work, and Gerard had to wait for him to come home. It was no different than with Master…except Master had always given him other whores to use for company.

Just as Gerard began heating up a small bowl of heat-and-serve mashed potatoes, there was a loud knock on the front door. The dogs began barking shrilly, but Gerard froze.

It was like a bolt of burning lightning had shot through every limb of his body. It was terror and self-loathing all in the same moment. He wished he could just answer the door like a normal human being, but he was terrified that it was another enemy from his past.

Hoping it was Lindsey, coming a few days early, Gerard crept towards the front door. He chewed his lower lip anxiously and took a deep breath before peering through the peephole.

“Who’s there?” He asked, not recognizing the back of the blonde head as the man turned to walk away. Gerard immediately regretted speaking when the man turned back around.

It was someone he knew; it was Bob.

“Gerard? It’s Bob. You busy?”

“Um…” Gerard backed away from the door and began shaking. He didn’t want anyone in the house, and he didn’t want to face Bob after…after everything he’d seen. But Bob had saved his life—his pathetic excuse for a life—and he had to at least act like he appreciated it. “Just…Just a second!”

Gerard stepped back into the kitchen so he could catch his breath and force the look of terror off his face. He was weak, but he didn’t need to look it so much. Looking like a victim was what _made_ him a victim.

After close to five minutes, Gerard managed to make himself look angry as he pulled the front door open. The dogs both tried to rush out, but Bob caught Pig and Gerard caught Bear in the last moment.

“Sorry about them,” Gerard said, carrying Bear over to the couch and sitting down with the dog in his lap. “They get excited when they think Frank’s home…”

“It’s okay,” Bob said, sitting down reluctantly on the couch beside Gerard. There was a fair amount of space between them, but Gerard was still anxious. “So…I’m sorry to just show up, but I wanted to see if you were feeling any better…Probably wasn’t a good idea.”

“It’s…it’s fine,” Gerard said, chewing his lower lip. He didn’t want to be rude to Bob… He had a feeling that if he was just polite, even just a little bit, it would make Frank happy. Frank would think he was adjusting and maybe things would go a little better. “How…how have you been?”

“The usual,” Bob said. “I work at this record store in the city—I’m manager, so I get to deal with the customers who don’t know how to treat vinyl.”

“I…I don’t work,” Gerard said. He didn’t know how he was supposed to go back to a normal life when he couldn’t even hold normal conversation. When he’d been away from Frank, he’d gotten his first job by sleeping with the owner of the little store. He’d stuttered his whole interview and relied on the only thing he knew to keep himself present in the shopkeeper’s mind.

He couldn’t see himself doing that now…

“You don’t have to rush yourself. Frank’s got enough to live comfortably—and I’m sure he’s got a lot saved up. He can afford a _lot_ better than this,” Bob said, gesturing to the small apartment.

“I don’t want to use all of Frank’s money,” Gerard said, petting Bear and trying to soothe the voice in his head that was getting angry. 

It wasn’t his _fault_ that Frank and Mikey forced him to stay alive. _Frank_ was the one who wouldn’t let go. Gerard never _asked_ to be taken care of like a child.

“Nah, I didn’t mean it like that,” Bob said. “Ray said Frank was hoping to get you a job at the restaurant.”

“I don’t want to work with Frank,” Gerard said. He knew he couldn’t be picky about where he worked—he didn’t have any references, and there was no way anyone sane was going to hire a nervous wreck to work their counter—but he didn’t want to work with Frank. The other employees would look at him differently. The other managers would get mad at Frank for treating Gerard different, and if he _didn’t_ treat Gerard like just another employee, Gerard knew it would hurt his feelings.

“You know, my store needs a new person just to work in back, cleaning up the vinyl and stocking the shelves.”

Gerard stiffened. Part of him was tempted to take the job, but most of him just wanted to hide in the apartment and never leave.

“I don’t…”

“You don’t have to answer today,” Bob said. “I just thought I’d offer.” His tone remained casual, as if he weren’t offering anything and just making conversation. 

“Would…would I have to wait on people?”

“Possibly, but it would only be if someone stepped out for a minute. You’d just help clean up the back.”

“Alone?” Gerard asked.

“No—We work in pairs. It’s not a bad section of town, but we don’t want to take the risk of having a weak staff.”

“I…I might. Who would I work with?” Gerard let Bear jump onto the floor and pulled his knees up to his chest.

“Most of our guys are just 80’s rock enthusiasts—they’ll talk your ear off about the rare records they have in their collections. They look a little shocking at first, but they’re not dangerous. All they have on their records is drug charges, but that’s what comes with rock ‘n’ roll, right?”

“I…I guess—when would I work? I don’t want to be out all night.” Gerard tried not to let his fear show—his fear of the darkness, the men, and the unknown places.

“We close at nine and we’re right next to a shopping center so there’s always lots of people around. It’s not secluded, and we have our own parking lot so you won’t have to park more than eight feet from the front door.”

“I’ll…I’ll talk to Frank about it.”

“Cool,” Bob said, nodding and looking at the TV. “I need to replace the one woman worker we had—she quit because of our no dating co-workers policy.”

“Is dating in the workplace that big of a problem?” Gerard asked, trying to turn the conversation into something normal.

“It can be. The owners said that when the first opened up the store a boyfriend-girlfriend couple teamed up to steal a lot of the valuable records, then they broke up and smashed half the store. It’s easier to get along with people if you don’t have too much close history, you know?”

“I guess,” Gerard said softly. “Would I work the same times as you?”

“Possibly. I can’t be sure.”

Gerard hummed and leaned back against the couch. The tension was still in the room, but not as strong. Conversation was brief and awkward, but Gerard felt that it was a good attempt for his first conversation with someone other than his family, Frank, and Lindsey.


	20. Chapter 20

_Chapter 20_

“I don’t know,” Lindsey said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Gerard—please don’t misunderstand. I just feel like a job’s a really big commitment. You just got discharged a few weeks ago. Are you sure you’re okay to do that?”

“I mean…I guess I am,” Gerard whispered. He was so grateful when Lindsey had arrived at his and Frank’s apartment just liked she’d promised the past week.

“That…that doesn’t sound promising,” Lindsey said, shaking her head. She wasn’t trying to sway him one way or the other, but Gerard appreciated that she recognized how very serious the situation actually was. “I’m just afraid you’ll push yourself too hard too fast and that something might go wrong…like if someone came in who scared you, or you got in a fight with Bob or your manager. Would you be able to handle that yet?”

“Well…it’s better than sitting here all day feeling like I’m stealing all of Frank’s money. I feel _useless_ here. Before, you know, when I’d be out of a job and living with Frank, I always just said I paid him with sex, but now…” Gerard groaned and covered his face with his hands. “I just feel like a waste of space.”

“Gerard, you can’t beat yourself up over not being ready yet!” Lindsey said, her tone full of concern. “You love Frank and he loves you. I _know_ you hate hearing this, but he _understands._ He’s been there all along for you, and he knows why you’re hesitant and he’s _okay_ with that. You mean more to him than sex. A lot more.”

“I know, but…it doesn’t _feel_ that way, you know? I mean, my whole life was…them. Doing things. All the time. I just…it feels wrong not having that same kind of _relationship_ with him.”

“Gerard, you’re not his property. It’s _your_ body and he respects that. He doesn’t push you because, like most _normal_ , healthy people, the sex is better for him when the other person wants it, too.”

Gerard tried not to let his distress show on his face. He _wanted_ to take that job. He wanted it so he could prove to Frank and his family that he wasn’t broken and that he was able to take care of himself like an adult should. He wanted the job because he felt that if he could handle it, he could handle Frank…and _being_ with Frank.

The job was a step closer to a normal life…a better life. 

But perhaps Gerard wanted to take too many steps too quickly. Maybe he was setting himself up to fall…

“I…I _want_ Frank,” Gerard said. He thought he would feel more self-conscious saying it out loud, but Lindsey just made him feel safe. She never judged him, and he felt like she _loved_ him—like she really cared about him a lot.

“And that’s good,” Lindsey said, placing her hand gently on his shoulder. “But you don’t have to act on it right away. More goes into it than just the lust, you know? There’s _love,_ and the mood, and _trust._ Oh God, Gerard—there’s so much trust in that. So much. And for you there’s those memories—those nightmares you have and…what happened in the townhouse.”

Gerard shuddered at the mention of it. 

“That’s not what I’m afraid of,” Gerard whispered, staring at the couch.

“What is it?” Lindsey asked.

Gerard closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath. 

“I’m…I’m worried that when I tell him I can, he won’t…” Gerard took a shaking breath and tried to keep from crying. “He won’t want me. He’ll tell me I can’t and that…he doesn’t want me like that anymore.” He managed to keep from sobbing, but the tears still fell despite his best efforts to contain them. It was a fear he felt was so real—so palpable—that he could barely imagine things going any other way. 

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Lindsey said, looking just as hurt as Gerard as she pulled him into a hug. “He’s not going to say that, I promise. Okay? I _promise_ that’s not what he’s going to say.” Gerard moved to hug her back and rested his head against her shoulder. “If anything, he’ll just keep asking you if you’re sure so many times that it’ll spoil the mood. Okay? And then the next night he’ll be creeping all over you trying to see if you’re ready because he’ll be ready and he’ll accept that you’re okay.”

“He’s not gonna want me,” Gerard whimpered. Saying it felt like a stab through the chest, but it was a thought so powerful that he couldn’t keep it in anymore. “And I’m gonna feel fuckin’ stupid for coming here with him, because he…he _hates_ me.”

“No, you’re not—he’s just going to make sure you’re okay. He _can’t_ hate you. Put yourself in his shoes, he—”

“I have!” Gerard cried, holding onto her tighter. “I have, and I wouldn’t want me. I’m _disgusting._ I-I can’t even count the number of people I’ve slept with—why would he want that?”

“The past is over!” Lindsey cried, prying Gerard off of her so she could look him in the eye. “He _loves_ you. Why are you doing this to yourself?”

Gerard turned his face away and sobbed. 

“Gerard…what is it? There’s something else going on. Tell me what it is.”

“I know it’s wrong, but…I _know_ it’s wrong, but I just want Frank to be like my master. I want him to _tell_ me, I—I want him to _make_ me so I don’t have to choose.”

“Gerard, you _don’t_ want that—that’s just habit. That’s an escape for you,” Lindsey said, her voice soft. “If Frank did that, you wouldn’t love him anymore. All that love would be _gone._ Gerard, you _love_ Frank. You _love_ him. Those men—those masters, they just tortured you until you were afraid of them. You didn’t love them, you were afraid for your _life._ Yeah, they made you feel safe from the dangers of the outside world, but you were scared of them. They hurt you. More than you’d like to admit.”

“What am I going to do?” Gerard asked, leaning back down against her shoulder. She was the only support system he had left. Frank tip-toed around him, Bob was no longer un-biased, and Mikey hated Frank so much that he was incapable of giving advice. “It’s not fair for Frank to be with me. I’m broken—I’m worthless.”

“Stop saying that,” Lindsey said, patting his back and letting out a sigh. “Frank _chooses_ to be with you. I know you’re still kinda messed up from it all, and I know it confuses you because Frank _bought_ you, but…do you _love_ him?”

“Yes,” Gerard whimpered.

“Why?” Lindsey asked.

“Because he takes care of me—he always took care of me, even when he didn’t have to. He…he let me go home.”

“And why did he do that? Why did he take care of you?”

“I don’t know,” Gerard mumbled.

“Yes, you do. Now tell me why. Why did he take care of you when he could’ve just left you in that place, with those men? Why?”

“Because he loved me,” Gerard said, voice shaking. “I want Frank to come home—I…I need to see him.”

“He can’t leave work,” Lindsey said softly. “Be patient. He’ll come home soon and he’ll _appreciate_ that you waited for him.”

Gerard felt like his heart was about to burst. He felt anxious and helpless—desperate for the one person he needed most to comfort him. Waiting three hours felt like it would kill him—just the thought made him panic. 

“Just be patient, and you’ll feel better when he gets home.”

“No,” Gerard whimpered. “I won’t. I…I _need_ him!”

“Why?” Lindsey asked. “What’s wrong? You gotta try to stay calm. What’s happening?”

“I want to know why he was there,” Gerard said, squeezing his eyes shut. He knew the story Frank always told him. He knew it by heart. Frank won the lottery; Frank bought a whore. But that didn’t make sense—that wasn’t how lotteries worked. 

“He was trying to go to a bar—he was in the wrong place…at the _right_ time.”

“He kept me…he didn’t call the police, he kept me. And he made me love him—I tried to hate him. I _tried._ He made me like this—he was _one_ of them.”

“No he wasn’t,” Lindsey said firmly. “Gerard, you’re scaring yourself and you need to stop. You have to stop it. I _know_ it’s weird. I know it doesn’t make sense, but it happened. He was just a kid—he was, what? Nineteen? Twenty?”

“I want him to come home,” Gerard cried. 

“If he came home, would you ask him why he was there that night?”

“No,” Gerard said, shaking his head.

“Say you called him and he came home right away, what would you say when he came through the door?”

“That I’m sorry,” Gerard said, covering his face. “And that I didn’t want him to lose his job because of me.”

“So you’d be _hurt_ if he came home—it would make you feel worse?”

“Yes.” Gerard leaned back against the couch and felt drained and helpless. It was like he was sinking into a dark pool of water with no way to return to the surface. Everything he wanted felt wrong…

“So just be patient. He’ll come home and you’ll feel proud of yourself for waiting.”

Gerard stayed silent, trying not to drown in his agony. How was he supposed to get out of this when all of the solutions just left him feeling terrified? He felt like he was dying… He could feel himself drowning and there was no one there to really save him. 

( ) ( ) ( )

When Frank came home from work, he made it two steps into the apartment before he was ambushed by both dogs and his boyfriend. It made him feel like something was wrong…

Gerard latched onto him and wouldn’t let go. Not for a kiss—not for anything. 

“Gerard? Did something happen?” Frank asked, rubbing Gerard’s back gently. Gerard just whimpered and Frank held him close. “What? Did…did someone _hurt_ you? What’s wrong?” Gerard started shaking and Frank was immediately filled with terror. “What?” He pressed. “Gerard, _please._ What happened?”

“I missed you,” Gerard whispered. His voice sounded raw and Frank couldn’t take anymore. He pried Gerard’s arms off of him and made him take a step back so he could look at his face. It was flushed and his eyes were red and raw. Everything from his hair to clothing was disheveled and he had scratch marks all over his arms. 

“Gerard, what happened?” Frank asked firmly. “Who hurt you?”

“No one,” Gerard said, his eyes becoming bleary and his body beginning to shake harder. 

“Gerard, who hurt you? Who came in here today?”

“Just Lindsey, but she didn’t…I’m okay.”

“No you’re not,” Frank said firmly. “You’re _not_ okay, you’re crying—you’re scaring me. What happened?”

“I just…I _missed_ you,” Gerard said, tears falling rapidly from his eyes. 

Frank didn’t know whether to hold him, or grab his phone and call for an ambulance. 

“D-do you love me?” Gerard asked, biting his lip and crossing his arms over his chest in a protective embrace. 

“Gerard, I _adore_ you—what is going on?” Frank stared at him in concern as he took a small step closer, closing the distance between them. Frank moved his arms so Gerard could fold himself against his chest and held him close, feeling him tremble. “What, Gerard? Please… What happened?”

All he could think was that somehow, someway, one of those men got to him again. That someone came into this apartment, found him here, and attacked him when he was all alone. All Frank could imagine was that he’d let Gerard get hurt again…He couldn’t live with that. He couldn’t handle that…

“Do…do you w-want me?” Gerard asked, shaking more and more and his voice breaking as he sobbed.

“Oh, God,” Frank breathed, crushing Gerard against his chest. It was back to _this._ He wanted to feel relief but he couldn’t. He didn’t know which was worse—Gerard being attacked, or Gerard attacking himself. Frank couldn’t take this—Gerard wasn’t ready for wanting and love like that. He was so _broken_ and Frank couldn’t bear the idea of accidently making it worse. “No, no, no, no…” Frank chanted, not thinking about Gerard’s question, but trying to cope with the heaviness in his chest.

“N-no?” Gerard said, sounding so devastated. So heartbroken. Gerard let out a soft cry—a sound as close to a scream as he could produce—and began sinking to the floor.

“Gerard!” Frank called, trying to support him but ending up on the ground with Gerard nearly _dying_ against his chest. Every sound Gerard made was one step closer to a scream—to a cry of utter misery and anguish. “No—don’t do this,” Frank said, holding him and kissing the top of his head. “Gerard, don’t do this to me—I didn’t mean it like that!”

Gerard finally managed and scream and Frank cast his eyes up to the ceiling, praying to God to let Gerard see reason. It sounded like Gerard were dying, and Frank couldn’t take it.

“Gerard, I didn’t mean it,” he pleaded, trying to get a look at his boyfriend’s face but only catching glimpses of thick hair as Gerard lowered his face. “Gerard, _please._ I love you—you need to stop.” Gerard just kept crying, starting to hyperventilate but screaming even though he had no air left to breathe. “Gerard, _stop,_ ” Frank pleaded. “Stop, Sweetheart.” Gerard began choking but continued to shake and gasp for air. “Gerard, stop it!” Frank shouted. “ _Stop it!_ ”

Gerard reflexively cringed at the tone of his voice and let out a whimper between his labored breaths. Frank hated yelling at him—hated ordering him to listen—but he couldn’t let it go on. He didn’t want to see where it would end.

“Gerard, I love you,” Frank said softly, placing another kiss on the top of Gerard’s head. “Of course I want you,” he whispered. Gerard started to let out another cry, but Frank shushed him. “No. Listen to me—I _love_ you. I love you, but you _can’t_ do this to me. I thought someone hurt you.” Gerard started crying out as if in pain and Frank sighed deeply. Trying to explain it to him was just going to make him feel worse. 

His heart was _broken._ Frank felt like he’d killed him.

“I want you, Sweetheart,” Frank said, carefully lowering one of his hands from Gerard back to his waist. “You know I want you, Beautiful.” He let his hand cup Gerard’s hip and stayed still until Gerard’s breathing slowed down. 

Gerard continued making weepy noises, his head buried in Frank’s shoulder and wetting his shirt. He didn’t seem consoled—just exhausted and desperate. Frank closed his eyes tightly and regretted his words before he could even speak them.

“Do you want me to prove it to you, Sweetheart?” Frank asked. Gerard’s breathing stopped for a moment, and then he slowly nodded his head against Frank’s chest. “Okay,” Frank whispered. “Okay, come here.”

Frank tried to get him to stand, but Gerard cried out and clung to him more tightly, as if expecting him to run away.

“Not here, Gerard,” Frank said, keeping his tone gentle. Gerard clutched onto him even more firmly and Frank sighed softly. “No,” he said. “Not here—let’s go to our room. Come on—it’s okay.”

Frank slowly managed to get Gerard back on his feet and guided him to their room. Gerard kept his head down the entire time they walked, and Frank just knew it wasn’t over yet. As soon as he hit the mattress, he was either going to lock up or scream. 

He was desperate to keep that from happening.

“Look at me,” Frank said, grabbing Gerard’s wrist just as he went to crawl onto the bed. Gerard whimpered and kept his face lowered, his hair covering him like a curtain. “No, you’re going to look me.”

With a resigned whimper, Gerard finally lifted his head. Frank had never seen him look so awful…so devastated.

“I love you,” Frank said. Gerard immediately closed his eyes and tried to look away. Frank grabbed his chin and forced him to look back at him. “No. Look at me.” Gerard moaned and tried to pull his head away, but Frank wouldn’t allow it—he couldn’t risk it. “Look at me.”

Finally, Gerard opened his eyes again and looked at him humiliated.

“I love you,” Frank said, watching how his words made the look in Gerard’s eyes change ever so slightly. “Do you know why?” Gerard shook his head, but only slightly. The light started coming back into his eyes, like he knew he was about to be told something great. “Because you’re so strong—no look at me—you’re stronger than this. And the fact that you can even look at me after all we’ve been through together…that’s so brave. I couldn’t do it if I were you. I don’t blame you for leaving before, Gerard. I knew why you had to go. But I’m happy you’re back. I missed you.”

Frank pressed a gentle kiss onto his lips, but Gerard just stumbled backwards onto the bed. Instead of the scream he’d been anticipating, Gerard gasped in surprise. 

With a heavy sigh, Frank climbed onto the bed over him and kissed his cheek. He could tell without even checking that Gerard’s body was in no mood for this. He was rigid and terrified, and Frank knew there had to be some way out of this that didn’t end with Gerard being hurt. 

“You know I love you,” Frank said softly, kissing Gerard’s ear and jawline. 

“I love you too,” Gerard whispered shakily. 

“Do you want me?” Frank asked, placing one hand on Gerard’s hip and grasping it gently. Gerard didn’t look at him when he said yes.

Gerard couldn’t even look at him.

“Then you can have me,” Frank said, leaning down to nuzzle Gerard’s neck and forcing their roles to switch. It caught Gerard off-guard and he froze when Frank laid down on the bed beside him. “Any way you want,” Frank said when Gerard continued to hesitate.

Gerard slowly sat up and looked at Frank anxiously. Some of the pain was gone from his face—replaced by confusion and fear. 

“I…I can’t,” Gerard said.

“ _Any_ way you want,” Frank repeated, looking up at him and forcing on a smile.

“Frank, I _can’t!_ ” Gerard pleaded, pressing a clenched hand between his legs as an indicator. 

“It’s okay,” Frank said, lying still and looking up at him softly. “What do you want me to do?”

Gerard looked away from him and pressed his fist more firmly between his legs, hurting himself.

“Sweetheart,” Frank said. “What can I do?”

“Want me,” Gerard whispered after a moment of hesitation. It wasn’t about Gerard wanting sex—it was about Gerard wanting Frank to want sex from him. That was something that just couldn’t happen after all Frank had seen since returning home…

“Want me to blow you?” Frank asked. It was all he could think of, and it got a reaction out of Gerard that wasn’t a cry or a scream. He looked embarrassed.

“I…I can blow you if you really want,” Gerard said.

“No,” Frank said, sitting up and kissing Gerard’s cheek. “Lay back down. I’ll take care of you.”

Gerard stammered out half of a word of protest, but began lying down almost instantly. 

“If you get scared, I’ll stop,” Frank said, making sure to meet Gerard’s gaze as he worked his way between his legs. “Tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” Gerard whispered, laying his head back against the pillow and breathing shakily as Frank slowly undid the button of his jeans. “D-don’t…don’t hurt me, please.”

“Shh,” Frank said. “I won’t.” He slowly pulled down Gerard’s jeans and reached for the hem of his boxers.

“Wait,” Gerard said softly, grabbing for Frank’s wrist. “Don’t…”

“If you want me to stop, you know I will,” Frank said quietly. 

“Don’t _hurt_ me,” Gerard whispered.

“I won’t,” Frank insisted. Gerard didn’t look consoled and Frank tried to ignore it as he slowly pulled his boxers away. 

Immediately, he saw what Gerard was talking about. The entire surface of his member was covered in angry, red abrasions. 

“What did you do?” Frank asked, sighing in horror and vicarious pain. “Gerard?” He pressed when he got no answer.

“I…I _missed_ you,” Gerard said, making a small hand gesture and then covering his face with his hands.

“Does…does it hurt?” Frank asked, already knowing the answer.

“A little, but…but it’s okay,” Gerard whispered. “I think…if you’re nice. If you don’t…don’t pull.”

Frank sighed heavily and pressed the tips of his fingers against one of the sore patches of skin. Gerard only winced slightly. The marks weren’t fresh and seemed close to healing, but they still left Frank concerned. If this was what he did when he was alone, something really needed to change.

“Is this okay?” Frank asked softly. Gerard whimpered, but nodded his head. “I love you,” Frank repeated. Gerard mumbled out something that sounded the same and Frank took no more time before taking Gerard’s limp member into his mouth. 

Gerard cried out instantly and Frank stayed still, not sure if it was pain from the sores or surprise. When he felt Gerard slowly hardening in his mouth he allowed himself to move his tongue along the shaft until it was fully erect.

“You okay, Sweetheart?” Frank asked, stroking him gently. Gerard nodded and fisted his hands in the pillow beneath his head.

Frank ducked back down and sucked the tip into his mouth, teasing just slightly before working his way down to the base. Gerard’s hips bucked slightly and placed a gentle had on the curve of his hip to keep him still. 

He ran his tongue along the vein on the underside of Gerard’s cock and tried to distract himself with the soft noises of pleasure Gerard began making. He’d missed those sounds…

( ) ( ) ( )

Whenever he wasn’t trying to fight back the feelings of embarrassment and self-loathing, quiet moans kept breaking past Gerard’s lips. He felt more and more degraded each time he would gasp or grunt, but he couldn’t help it.

It had been so long since he’d felt anything remotely similar to this. Frank was bobbing his head up and down quickly, and the heat and the suction was driving him almost mad. 

Every now and then, Frank would pull most of the way back, leaving just the tip in his mouth, and would flick the tip of his tongue over the slit. The small gesture made Gerard’s back arch off the bed. 

Gerard swore that nothing else in the world had ever made him feel as good and as terrible as this—and he wanted to cry from the sensation of it, but he was afraid he’d frighten Frank and make him stop.

Gerard squeaked in surprise when Frank pulled completely off of his member in order to suck one side of his balls into his mouth. He bucked his hips slightly and felt the warmth pool in his stomach. 

“F-Frank?” Gerard gasped, not wanting to be over so fast—not ready, not satisfied.

“Hm?” Frank hummed. It made Gerard moan deeply and lie flat against the mattress. 

“P-please,” Gerard choke out, folding up one of his legs and leaning it to the side, hoping Frank would understand. 

Frank ran his tongue up the underside of his cock and sucked his length back into his mouth. Gerard whimpered softly and pulled his ankle free of his boxers so he could spread his legs further.

“Please?” He asked. “Frank?”

Frank hummed again and then let Gerard fall from his mouth in order wet his fingers. Gerard watched him silently, hoping that Frank wasn’t just teasing. He _needed_ him. He needed Frank to get rid of what Adam had left behind… Those last traces. 

“Frank?” Gerard pressed. 

Frank lowered his hand and pressed the tip of his finger against Gerard’s entrance. Just as he pressed it inside, he sucked his cock back into his mouth and ran his tongue over the slit firmly. 

Gerard took in a shaking breath as the finger was joined by a second. He realized quickly that Frank wasn’t prepping him, just spearing him gently. 

“Frank,” Gerard pressed. “Please?” 

Frank hummed in response and curled his fingers, hitting Gerard’s prostate and making him cry out in pleasure. 

“Frank, _please!_ In…In, please? Inside? P-please?” He didn’t want to have to beg, he just wanted Frank to claim him—to take him and own him. 

“No, Sweetheart,” Frank said quickly. “Not tonight.” 

Gerard whimpered and laid his head against the pillow dejectedly. Frank continued sucking him and stroking him with his tongue. It felt good, but Gerard still wanted to more—he needed more. The fingers that rubbed his insides raw just weren’t enough. He wanted more—he wanted _Frank._

Frank sucked him a little harder and rubbed his fingertips over Gerard’s sweet spot until he was cumming helplessly and with a choked-off moan. He felt Frank swallow around him and moaned loudly, feeling exhausted but unsatisfied.

He wanted Frank.

“Please,” Gerard whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and spreading his legs as Frank pulled his hand away. “Frank?”

“No,” Frank said. “Not tonight—just you tonight.”

“Frank,” Gerard whimpered. His mind was turning to static, and all he could think was that he wanted Frank and that he didn’t think he could take anymore. 

When Frank crawled over him to press a kiss onto his cheek, Gerard snaked his hand between their bodies and groped Frank between the legs. Frank jerked as Gerard began stroking him through his jeans and tried to pull away.

“No, Sweetheart. I can’t…”

“Please, Frank? I’ll be okay—I can take it…”

“You can’t even keep your eyes open,” Frank said, kissing Gerard’s cheek and trying to push his hand off of his groin.

“Please!” Gerard cried, feeling the shame eat away at him. He hoped that if he got Frank off then the guilt would go away. He’d _ruined_ this night and he owed it to Frank to make it better.

“Okay,” Frank said with a sigh. “If it hurts you, I’m gonna stop. Okay?”

“Okay,” Gerard said, slowly moving to roll onto his stomach. Frank stopped him.

“I need to see your face,” he said, his voice raw and rough. Gerard stared at him with want and swallowed hard. 

Frank grabbed a bottle of lubricant from the very back of the nightstand’s drawer and slowly undid his jeans. He looked anxious and Gerard had to try even harder to fight the guilt. He didn’t know if this night was going well or awful—was it what Frank had been dreaming about or was it a nightmare?

“Love me?” Gerard asked.

“Always,” Frank said, kissing Gerard’s cheek one last time before uncapping the bottle of lubricant and pouring some onto his fingers. 

As soon as it was happening, Gerard began to feel the nerves grip him. He could trust Frank—he _knew_ that. He knew… It was safe.

When Frank pressed the fingers back inside of him, Gerard couldn’t help but tense up. 

He was _forcing_ Frank to do this… Frank didn’t want this. Frank didn’t want _him._

“It’s okay,” Frank said when Gerard closed his eyes against the pain in his chest. “Try to relax, okay?” Frank added a third finger and Gerard cried out. 

It hurt. It really, really hurt. He tried to be still and he tried to let his body relax, but he couldn’t. He felt guilty and he was in pain—and he was afraid Frank was going to get mad…

“Relax, Gerard. I won’t hurt you. It’s okay.”

Gerard whimpered softly and tried to spread his legs further in hopes it would stop the burning. Frank began thrusting his fingers gently and Gerard really didn’t know how he was supposed to take something larger. 

He’d made a mistake, but he couldn’t go back now… God, how had he done this before? How had he been able to take this before? Or take it without any prep or lubricant at all?

He was so weak compared to what he used to be…compared to the person he was when Frank had fallen in love with.

Gerard bit into his lip, but it didn’t stop the tears that started to fall.

“Is it too much?” Frank asked quietly.

“No,” Gerard lied.

Less than a minute later, Frank was coating himself with lube and began to press inside. At first it wasn’t so bad, and then the pain just exploded.

Gerard cried softly, and clawed at the bed sheets desperately. Frank stayed still, halfway inside, and pressed gentle kisses onto Gerard’s collarbone until his muscles relaxed a little bit more. Gerard tried to hide how much it hurt as Frank pressed the rest of the way in.

He’d gone too far to ask Frank to back out now, but he was in agony. 

“It’s hurting,” Gerard whimpered. Frank didn’t answer, just grabbed Gerard’s hand from the mattress and moved it to his own side so that Gerard wrapped an arm around him. “Frank, you know I—ow!” Gerard dug his nails into Frank’s back when Frank pulled back slightly. 

“You have to relax,” Frank said softly, his voice still raspy. “Just try to relax, okay? I can’t…It’s going to hurt if I try to take it out. Relax more and…we’ll stop, okay?”

Gerard nodded gently and tried to get his body to become less rigid. The fear of pain kept him petrified, but eventually Frank began to pull back slowly.

It felt a little better, and Gerard wasn’t sure if it was because he’d relaxed or because he was becoming desperate to have Frank back with him. 

“Don’t…Don’t stop,” Gerard said quietly. “Please? Just…” 

Frank pressed back in slowly and hit Gerard’s prostate, making him shudder even though his body was still spent. Frank moaned softly and Gerard clutched his shoulder, trying to tell him it was okay.

With a heavy sigh, Frank began thrusting, gently at first and then going a little faster. Gerard moaned softly and buried his face in Frank’s shoulder, trying to ignore it when he began feel raw and the movements started to burn worse than before.

Gerard whimpered when Frank’s pace faltered and his movements became sporadic. It hurt, but he was okay. They were just making love, and Gerard was going to keep it together.

He was going to stay calm and be good. 

When Frank came, he came inside and Gerard had to quickly remind himself that he’d _wanted_ this. He’d wanted Frank to claim him, and there was no better way than that.

“Love you,” Frank breathed before moaning through his aftershocks. “You’re beautiful,” he said before kissing Gerard gently on the mouth.

Gerard just nodded, his throat too constricted to speak. He felt that he would burst into tears at any given moment and he was determined to keep them back. 

Without Frank inside of him, Gerard felt empty and frail. He kept expecting Frank to get up from the bed and leave him, but Frank had collapsed beside him and wasn’t moving except to breathe. 

“What…what sounds good for dinner?” Frank asked, his face pressed against the mattress. Gerard didn’t answer. He stared at the ceiling and tried not to think. “Pizza again tonight?”

Gerard hummed softly and whimpered when he shifted one of his legs.

“I’m taking you out tomorrow night,” Frank whispered, scooting closer to him and throwing an arm over Gerard’s chest.

“You don’t have to do that,” Gerard said quietly. 

“We’ll pretend it’s our anniversary,” Frank said. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Gerard mumbled, turning his head to look at Frank who still had his face buried in the mattress.

“Even if I’m short?” Frank asked, sounding sleepy and far away.

“Yes,” Gerard said, rolling onto his side with a groan of pain and trying to curl against his partner.

“You’re mine,” Frank mumbled, pulling Gerard closer and pushing his head against his chest.

“Yes,” Gerard repeated. Frank sighed quietly and then fell silent. Gerard closed his eyes and tried to stay still. His body felt like it was throbbing and he was cold, but too exhausted to reach for the blankets. He whimpered softly, but Frank was asleep and heard nothing.


	21. Chapter 21

_Chapter 21_

Frank felt regret. Since he’d slept with Gerard, Gerard had barely gotten out of bed for days. Frank would leave for work and come home to find Gerard still asleep, still in pajamas. The dogs would have been inside so long that they made messes on the floor and Gerard didn’t say a word about it when Frank asked.

Gerard always looked exhausted when he hardly even moved, and his meals were always left unfinished at the table. 

“Gerard?” Frank asked. Gerard was staring at the wall again. He didn’t talk anymore. He was just gone. “Gerard?” Nothing. “Gerard?” Silence. “Gerard?”

“Hm?” Gerard turned to look at him slowly. 

“Are you okay?”

Gerard stared at him silently. His eyes were cloudy and he looked like he’d given up.

“Gerard?”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Gerard said, turning to look back at the wall. 

“Gerard…”

“Bob offered me a job.”

“Bob?” Frank asked, confused. “When did you talk to Bob?”

“A couple days ago…”

“What, did he…did he _call?_ ”

“He stopped by,” Gerard said softly, leaning forward to pick Bear up off the floor. “I called him today. I told him I’d take it.”

“Gerard, you _can’t_ work,” Frank said. “You can’t even get out of bed.”

“I can’t get out of bed because I didn’t know how to tell you,” Gerard said quietly.

“To tell me you took a job?”

“I knew you’d be upset…”

“I’m not upset, I’m _worried._ What job?” Frank asked, scooting closer to Gerard on the couch.

“The record store. He said I’d work in the back cleaning and stocking and stuff…”

“Okay…but how often? You can’t be gone all the time…”

“Four days a week?” Gerard said, looking at Frank nervously like he was expecting to get yelled at or struck.

“That’s not so bad…” Frank frowned and looked at the floor. He’d really been hoping to get Gerard a job at the diner so he could keep an eye on him and make sure he was okay. He just wanted to protect him. He couldn’t watch him when he was with Bob, and he didn’t trust Bob with Gerard’s life.

Gerard was sensitive and fragile. If a manager yelled at him, he could just fall apart!

“I guess…I want you to do what makes you feel better,” Frank said, meeting Gerard’s gaze. “I won’t stop you.”

“You’re mad at me,” Gerard said quietly.

“Not mad,” Frank said quickly, shaking his head. “I just…I’m protective, you know? I want to keep you where I can see you and…I’m like a parent, you know? I worry about you when I’m not with you. I want you take the job…but expect to get like twenty calls from me making sure you’re alive.”

Gerard smiled softly and leaned his head over onto Frank’s shoulder. 

“When are you going to start?” Frank asked. Gerard looked at him and smiled shyly.

“The day after tomorrow? When you give me money for gas?” Gerard said.

“I guess I could do that,” Frank said, pressing a kiss onto Gerard’s cheek. Gerard set Bear on the floor and curled up against Frank’s chest. “So…Bob came here?”

“Yeah,” Gerard said, obviously anxious. “For a little bit.”

“He didn’t say anything to me about it…”

“He said he was afraid you’d get mad,” Gerard said, nuzzling Frank’s chest and sighing. “I was okay. He wasn’t mean or anything.”

“Has…anyone else been here to visit you? Like Ray?”

“No,” Gerard said. “Just Lindsey. She’s my best friend.”

“I’m glad you have friends now,” Frank said, petting Gerard’s hair and holding him tightly. “It worried me when it was just me and my friends around you.”

“I like your friends,” Gerard said, a strange tone to his voice. As if to say, I like them _now._ “Ray’s cool…is he ever going to come over? No one has been here since I came back and it makes me feel bad…”

“You’re not keeping them away. We’re all just working.”

“I wish Mikey would come… I asked him yesterday and he asked me why I wanted to see a fight and hung up. I guess he’s mad at me.”

“He’s not mad at you—he’s jealous because you moved in with me instead of him,” Frank said, kissing Gerard’s head and trying to keep him from becoming upset. 

“It feels like he hates me.”

He felt Gerard’s body go limp in his arms and he held him close. 

“He doesn’t hate you. His feelings are just hurt.” 

The words didn’t seem to help Gerard feel any better. He just stayed quiet and leaned against Frank’s chest.

“Why don’t you go visit him tomorrow? He’d probably…appreciate it. I know Mikey isn’t good at showing his emotions very much, but he loves you to death. He’s just being stubborn.”

“I don’t know when he’ll be at home,” Gerard said, moving to lie down with his head in Frank’s lap. 

“You can always call him and ask,” Frank said. He was hoping that if Mikey got to see Gerard he’d remember that he wasn’t as resilient as he thought he was, and he was hopeful that Mikey would understand and be nicer.

“What if he says he doesn’t want to see me?” Gerard asked, sighing heavily and closing his eyes. Frank was beginning to see that there were a lot more reasons as to why he had spent so many days in bed than just because of a bad night together.

“He won’t say that,” Frank said. 

“You don’t know him,” Gerard whispered.

“Gerard, if he says something that hurts you, you need to tell him. I promise you that he doesn’t want to be bully.”

“What if he hates me?” Gerard asked quietly, keeping his eyes closed and looking like he was in pain.

“He doesn’t, Gerard. Call him—tell him you want to come see him.”

“I asked him to come here and he hung up on me…he doesn’t _want_ to see me.”

“He doesn’t want to see _me,_ ” Frank argued. “It’s different. He’s upset because he thinks you like me more than him.”

“I do,” Gerard mumbled.

“He’s your brother, Gerard…”

“You saved me…I love you.” Gerard rolled over so his face was buried in Frank’s stomach. 

“I love you, too,” Frank said softly, stroking Gerard’s hair. “You need to take a shower, though. Your hair is really, really greasy.”

“I don’t care,” Gerard groaned. 

“You want me to give you a bath like I do the dogs?” Frank asked in a teasing voice. “I’ll do it—I can find a way to fit you in the kitchen sink.”

Gerard tried to stifle his laugh, but couldn’t.

“You’d have to make me lose a few pounds first.”

“I would—chasing you around trying to get you _in_ the sink.” 

Gerard rolled over onto his back again and looked up at Frank quietly.

“I could fit _you_ in the sink,” Gerard said quietly.

“I’m sure you could,” Frank said, smiling. “I’m short—it wouldn’t be very hard.”

“Do you love me?” Gerard asked quietly.

“You know I do,” Frank said, leaning down and kissing Gerard gently. “I love you, Sweetheart.” Gerard smiled softly and let out a sigh. 

“Do you want to take a shower with me?” Gerard asked. Frank tried not to hesitate when he answered. 

“If it’ll help you get clean,” Frank said. Gerard rolled over and dropped down onto the floor. He stood up slowly and looked at Frank expectantly. “What, Beautiful?”

“Do you want to make love?” Gerard asked, scanning the floor and then checking Frank’s reaction.

“Are you still hurting?” Frank asked. Gerard shook his head slowly and reached out to touch Frank’s knee. “You look sad.”

“I don’t want you to say no,” Gerard mumbled.

“I don’t want you to push yourself…”

Gerard lowered his gaze and took a step backwards. Frank felt torn. All he wanted was for Gerard to understand him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want him—he just didn’t want to _hurt_ him. 

“I want to,” Gerard whispered. “When you do this, you make me nervous.”

“Well, _I’m_ nervous,” Frank said. “If I hurt you, I feel horrible. It’s not…it’s not just _sex_ with you, you know? It’s a really big deal…”

“It’s not,” Gerard mumbled. “Lots of guys have slept with me. It’s not anything…”

“It is to me, Gerard,” Frank said. “Yeah you slept with other people. So what?”

“None of them made it this big of a deal. I opened my legs, they finished, and in the morning they went home. I’m nothing special, Frank. I’m a fucking whore—why don’t you want me?”

“I _do!_ ” Frank cried. “You’re not a whore—”

“Yes I am!” Gerard shouted. “Stop acting like it’s special if you fuck me because it’s not! Lots of people have, okay? Why can’t you be like them?”

“What, and leave you in the morning? Maybe hit you a few times, too?” Frank asked. He wished it didn’t have to be this way. He wished it could go back to how it was before—before he forgot and before he remembered. Back when Gerard accepted himself… “I _remember_ what Mikey told me when I found you again, Gerard. You were letting people rape you, and you’re telling me you want me to be like _them?_ ”

“Not…not that bad,” Gerard said, looking away from Frank and starting to cry. “Please don’t talk about that…”

“I have to when you tell me to be like the other guys you’ve been with, Gerard! Name _one person_ who has treated you as good as I do. One person.” It wasn’t about having Gerard to himself—or saying that he was the best Gerard could ever have or ever get. It was about making Gerard see how much better he deserved to be treated. He didn’t need forced—he needed respect.

“Don’t do this,” Gerard said, wrapping his arms around himself protectively. 

“I can’t help it! You want me to _rape_ you. That’s what you _want_ from me, and I can’t do that.”

“It’s not rape,” Gerard whispered. 

“You make me sleep with you when you’re not in the mood. What do you call that?” 

“Love,” Gerard said, lowering his head.

“That’s not love,” Frank said softly. “It’s an _assault._ The other night, I felt like I _raped_ you. Do you understand? You were hurt, you were crying, and I felt like if I stopped it would get worse and if I _didn’t_ stop it would get worse.”

“I was fine,” Gerard whimpered.

“You _didn’t_ want it. Sex you don’t want is _rape,_ Gerard.”

“It’s not the same…” Gerard said. “It’s _not._ When Adam…when he did that to me it was so awful. Please don’t compare it to that…”

“It’s the same,” Frank said. 

“It’s not!” Gerard screamed. “Please stop! _Please!_ ”

“Gerard, it is _exactly_ the same! You need to understand that it’s not healthy—doing this to yourself isn’t good.”

“I just…I want you to want me,” Gerard stammered.

“Gerard, I _do._ ”

“You _don’t,_ ” Gerard argued.

“Why? Why do you think that?”

“Because…”

“Because I don’t throw you on our goddamned bed and fuck you every night!?” Frank couldn’t take anymore. Gerard had stressed him to the breaking point and there was a thin line between rage and exhaustion. “What do you _want_ from me? You don’t want _sex!_ Okay? You _don’t!_ ”

“Yes I do,” Gerard cried. “Please stop yelling at me…”

“You want me to yell at you!” Frank shouted. “Just like you want me to _force_ you into sex. Because you _think_ that’s gonna fix it, but it’s not. What we did the other night, Gerard, that was _no fucking different_ than what _Adam_ did to you!”

“Yes it was!” Gerard shouted, covering his mouth with his hand as he cried. “I didn’t want him!”

“Not _him,_ but me,” Frank said. “You want _me_ to treat you like that!”

“I don’t want _hurt_ like that,” Gerard sobbed. “ _Please_ don’t yell at me.” Gerard shrank back against the wall of the apartment, crying softly. 

“Then start making sense!” Frank shouted. “Tell me what the _fuck_ you want!”

“Stop yelling,” Gerard cried, beginning to tremble. “P-please, Frank…”

“No,” Frank said firmly. “You want a fuckin’ master, I’ll _be_ your fuckin’ master! Get in the _fucking_ shower!”

Gerard started sobbing and turned toward the wall, burying his face against it and cowering. 

“Why are you doing this to me?” Gerard wept.

Reality sunk in.

He’d berated his boyfriend into a sobbing mess. He’d attacked him with words and now he was turning to a wall—a solid piece of drywall—for comfort. Frank could tell him he was sorry all he wanted, but it wasn’t going to make a difference now. 

“I don’t know what…you want anymore,” Frank said quietly, his voice shaking.  
“I wanted you to love me,” Gerard sobbed, pressing further into the wall. “I just wanted you to love me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He was weeping like he actually thought he’d done something wrong, and Frank knew what would happen next. If he tried to go over and put a hand on his shoulder, Frank knew what Gerard would say.

He’d ask Frank not to hit him. 

“Gerard?” Frank said gently.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard cried. “I won’t ask anymore—I’ll take a shower. I’m sorry.”

When Gerard tried to slide down the wall toward the bathroom, Frank grabbed his arm gently and stopped him. Gerard didn’t flinch, but cowered—shaking in anticipation for a blow to the head or face.

“Gerard, I’m sorry,” Frank said gently. Gerard let out a hard sob and slid from the wall into Frank’s shoulder.

“People _hurt_ me, Frank,” Gerard cried. 

“I know,” Frank said, holding Gerard tightly and raising a hand to stroke his hair softly. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

“They did horrible things—and…and _tortured_ me. When I was with Mikey, they…they would beat me and just say these awful things. I didn’t _want_ that—it was all I could get. No one else would take me, Frank. Just the men that hated me. I didn’t want them, they just took me… I wanted you,” Gerard said with a sob. “I wanted you to _want_ me like they did. Not treat me like that…”

“I do…I do want you,” Frank whispered, holding Gerard as he trembled in his arms.

“No,” Gerard said, sounding disgusted. “You don’t.”

Frank sighed and stared at the wall, unable to answer.

It was true.

He couldn’t see Gerard that way. He hadn’t been able to since his memories came back. Gerard was damaged—he was broken and sex with him wasn’t _sex,_ it was a therapy session. There was more riding on the action than Gerard could ever understand, and that was why Frank didn’t want it.

He could never be good enough for Gerard again. He could never please him or satisfy him because Gerard was programmed to never be pleased. Gerard was trained to always desire and never to expect any release in return. Even after he was finished, he wanted more.

Gerard was made to be with men who didn’t care about him… A man that loved him could never hope to win anything more than his affection. The men who hated him—abused him—got the best of him. His personality was one geared for servitude; outside of that, he was just an empty shell. 

The fact of the matter was, Frank just didn’t want anyone else.

He really wished Gerard would go back to how he had been when he’d first brought him home. Full of rage and hatred for the world. Back when Gerard would be mean and reckless—dump coffee on people just because they looked at him wrong, get in fights just for the sake of fighting.

How had he lost all of that anger? It couldn’t have just turned back into sadness, could it?

“Why don’t you love me anymore?” Gerard asked in a quiet whimper.

“I do love you,” Frank said with a sigh.

“You don’t want me,” Gerard said.

“I want you, Baby,” Frank lied. His tone was so convincing that Gerard looked at him in actual surprise. “I just…I _can’t_ when I see you so upset about it.” Gerard looked prepared to argue and Frank loathed himself for what he was about to say before he even opened his mouth. “You don’t…it doesn’t do it for me when you look like you’re gonna cry. It’s a turnoff. I really… _can’t_ when you look like that.”

Gerard tried to say something, but couldn’t find any words. His expression was one of hurt and utter confusion—like he couldn’t understand how a man could turn down someone because they were crying. His whole life, he’d been made to scream for his lovers’ pleasure. The thought that there was another way baffled him.

“I can…not look that way,” Gerard said sadly. 

“When you’re actually ready, Sweetheart,” Frank said, kissing Gerard’s cheek softly.

“I’m…gonna take a shower,” Gerard said quietly. “Do you…”

“No,” Frank said. Gerard lowered his gaze and pulled away from Frank’s arms.

“Okay,” Gerard said as he walked slowly through the apartment. “I’ll…be out in a minute, I guess.”

“Okay…I’ll start making dinner,” Frank said. Gerard paused to look at him and then just locked himself in the bathroom.

As soon as Frank heard the shower start running, he grabbed his phone out of his pocket. He couldn’t do this on his own.

“S’up, man?”

“I fuckin’ broke his heart, Ray,” Frank said as he hurried into the kitchen.

“What? Who—Gerard?” Ray asked, sounding almost annoyed. He had a reason to be. Frank hardly talked to him anymore, and when he did it was about Gerard.

“Yeah—I fuckin’…God, you’d think I killed him the way he’s looking at me.”

“What did you do?” Ray asked.

“I…I don’t want to _be_ with him anymore,” Frank said, grabbing multiple boxes of food out of the cupboard to stop himself from thinking too much. He already felt like he were about to cry, and he didn’t want Gerard to find him that way.

“You want to _dump_ him!?” Ray practically shouted. “After _all_ you’ve been through?”

“No,” Frank said. “I just…I don’t wanna…you know.”

“Well, this is ironic,” Ray said. “Considering last time it was Gerard not wanting to sleep with you.”

“It’s not that,” Frank said softly.

“I just don’t see him the same now.”

“Frank, I don’t want to sound like a dick, but it’s good to know you don’t like your boyfriend now that someone else raped him.”

“It’s _not_ that!” Frank argued. 

“Yes it is,” Ray said firmly. “You just see him as a victim now and you don’t want to touch him.”

“He _is_ a victim,” Frank said.

“Yeah, but he’s also an adult. He can decide whether or not he’s okay.”

“Ray, he’s _destroyed._ ”

“Good to know you think he’s damaged goods?” Ray said, bitterness heavy in his tone.

“No!”

“What’s the difference?” Ray asked. “He got attacked again, he had to go to the hospital, now he’s untouchable. I mean, it’s not your fault that you’re suddenly not attracted to him anymore, but you should at least know _why._ Because someone else had him.”

“A lot of people have had him besides me,” Frank said.

“Yeah, but not while you’re dating him.”

“I’m not upset because I think he _cheated!_ ” Frank exclaimed. “Ray, someone broke in my house, raped my boyfriend, broke his _wrist,_ and left him in a mental institution. I can’t _see_ him as…as a _sex object_ after what he’s been through. It’s like _kids,_ you know? You’re not supposed to _see_ them like that.”

“Well, see it through his eyes for a minute. Someone broke into _his_ house, raped him in _his_ bed, broke _his_ arm, landed _him_ in a hospital, and now his boyfriend doesn’t want to touch him.”

“That’s why I said I broke his fuckin’ heart,” Frank said, sniffing loudly and looking up to prevent the tears in his eyes from falling.

“Look, you can’t keep looking at him like he’s a victim. That’s why he can’t get better.”

“It’s not my fault!” Frank said.

“Frank, he’s trying to get over it by going back to a normal routine. If you’d let him move past it, he’d act less _depressed_ and you’d want him again.” Ray sighed heavily and something on his side of the phone dropped loudly onto the ground. “Don’t leave him. It’d kill him, Frank. If he didn’t commit suicide, he’d end up living with a monster who wants him because he’s so messed up.”

“I’m not gonna leave him,” Frank said. “I love him, but…”

“You’re overthinking it,” Ray said. “Stop trying to be his counselor and just be his boyfriend. If he says he wants to do something, do it. If it hurts him, he’ll wait a while until he’s actually ready. Your tiptoeing around him just makes him that much more uncertain. He can’t trust your judgment, and you can’t decide when he’s ready.”

“I really can,” Frank said firmly. “Gerard…Gerard pushes himself too much—you can’t tell me he’s fine.”

“He’s not,” Ray said. “But you have to let him figure that out on his own. He’s not going to get mad at you—”

“I know that, Ray! He turns on _himself!_ ”

“You can’t stop him from doing that,” Ray said. “I know I sound like a dick, but you _can’t._ The reason you can’t sleep with him, honestly, is because you _see him_ as a kid. He’s a kid to you—and when you stop acting like he can’t think for himself, you’ll see that he’ll go back to being an adult.”

“I just want to keep him safe…”

“Let him live his life the way he wants to. None of the women I’ve dated have asked me to micromanage their emotions, and I’m sure Gerard feels the same.”

“You don’t get it,” Frank said with a heavy sigh. “The other night, I came home and he’d been crying, he’d scratched his arms open, and then asked me to sleep with him. Does it sound like I should’ve said okay?” Frank asked, cringing because the answer should be no and yet he’d said yes…

“I would say ‘are you sure,’ and if he said okay then I’d act like nothing was wrong. Maybe he was more afraid that you’d say no than he was of what would happen. Did you ever think of that?—Like, he ‘knows’ he’s damaged and he’s afraid you’ll see it too.”

“I broke his heart, Ray,” Frank said pathetically, pushing on the boxes he’d set on the counter.

“It wouldn’t be the first time. Just quit telling him he’s not _feeling_ properly and he’ll be fine.”

“He’s out of the shower, I have to go,” Frank said.

“We need to hang out soon,” Ray said. “I’m starting to forget what you look like.”

“I’ll text you later, okay?”

“See you.”

Frank hung up the phone and picked one of the boxes off the counter and opened it.

“Frank?”

Setting the box back down, Frank looked over his shoulder at the small hallways leading to the bathroom.

“What?”

“Can you come here?” Gerard sounded nervous and Frank felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Something was wrong.

“What is it?” He asked, moving through the apartment and knocking at the closed bathroom door. Gerard opened the door but only a crack. “What?”

“Did you hit me last night?” Gerard’s face no longer held any of its sadness. Now he just looked concerned.

“No,” Frank said. “Why…why would you ask that?”

Gerard face fell and he pulled the door open the rest of the way. He had his towel wrapped around his waist, but still lowered one of his hands to hide himself.

“I got this really bad bruise on my shoulder…” Gerard turned so his back faced Frank and Frank gasped at how deep the mark was. 

It looked like someone had punched him in the middle of his right shoulder blade—or like someone had hit him with a hammer or a brick.

“Did…did you hit it on something today? Does it hurt?” Frank reached out to gently touch the red and purple splotch on his back. Gerard whimpered and pulled away from him.

“My shoulder was stiff when I woke up, but I didn’t think about it,” Gerard said, looking at him sadly. It was like he really _thought_ Frank had struck him.

“Gerard, if I hit you that hard, you would’ve felt it—do you have anymore? Did you fall or something?”

“I told you, it wasn’t there yesterday. I changed in front of the mirror in the bedroom. I would’ve seen it.”

“Sweetheart, I didn’t hit you—Did you sleep on something hard?”

“Is our _bed_ hard?”

“Do…do you want me to take you to the ER? Like…that looks really bad,” Frank said, running his fingers over the mark and pulling back when Gerard gasped in pain. 

“No…I can move my shoulder and everything. It’s not broken, it just hurts a lot.”

“If it gets worse…or you get another, I want you to see a doctor, okay?” Frank said.

“I’m fine, I just…it surprised me.” Gerard sighed and shook his hair out of his eyes.

“Okay,” Frank said softly before pressing a gentle kiss onto the patch of bruised skin. Gerard flinched but didn’t say anything about it. “I’ll get back to dinner while you get dressed.”

Gerard shot him a look as he was about to leave that Frank just barely caught.

It was like he’d had something to say, but lost it. Like he’d wanted to ask Frank if he’d help him get dressed—or _undressed_ —and quickly changed his mind. Frank thought about responding to it, but felt it would just make matters worse. Trying to take back all that he’d said before and pretend it didn’t happen would just send mixed signals. 

He couldn’t break Gerard’s heart and tell him later that he changed his mind and wanted a fuck. It didn’t work that way. 

“Frank?”

“Yeah, Sweetheart?”

“I can still…sleep in our bed tonight, can’t I?”

“Yeah,” Frank said, turning back into the room and giving Gerard a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry I was so mean to you…”

“I’m sorry I cry too much,” Gerard said, a bit of anger lacing his tone.

“You don’t,” Frank said gently. “I was overreacting. I didn’t understand what you were trying to say and I—I jumped to conclusions and… I’m sorry.”

“I cry so much that my boyfriend doesn’t want to touch me,” Gerard said, holding Frank’s gaze.

“Maybe…your boyfriend would rather have you touch him instead,” Frank said, trying to somehow repair damage—even if it meant taking a risk and making it worse.

“What?” Gerard asked, looking both revolted and confused.

“Maybe he’s tired of always being the one on top,” Frank said, looking awkwardly at their reflection in the bathroom mirror. 

“I told—I _can’t!_ ” Gerard said, arching forward and pressing his hand between his legs.

“Well, why are you doing it that—that much? That… _hard._ How did you even…How?”

“I…get bored,” Gerard said, looking down at the floor. “And it’s…it’s not my fault it starts hurting.”

“Sweetheart…please stop doing that. You’re gonna…get an infection or something.”

“I’ll be fine,” Gerard said quietly. “You don’t have to worry about it…it’s not yours.”

“Well, I worry about the person attached to it, okay?” Frank said. 

“Well, don’t,” Gerard snapped. “I can take care of myself… You don’t have to babysit me!”

“Okay,” Frank said, backing out of the bathroom. “I’m gonna finish making dinner.”

“You mean _start_ making dinner. I heard you on the phone, Frank.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this will be the last of the super-heavy drama. (Or so I think...) It's just necessary that some things be said and it is important to have Frank and Gerard finally get them out. All the cards are on the table now--let's see how this plays out!


	22. Chapter 22

_Chapter 22_

_He was your toy, Gerard. Don’t you remember?_

“No,” Gerard said.

 _No? What about that_ special _night the two of you had, hm?_

“What night?” Gerard asked.

_You know…The one where you sucked—_

“Shut up!” Gerard cried, leaning over and burying himself in the blankets.

 _So you_ do _remember. I knew you would._

“Stop,” Gerard said.

_What about the time you poured coffee on Ray? Did you forget about that too?_

“I can’t forget that,” Gerard said, wrapping a blanket over his face and wishing it would suffocate him. “I _still_ feel bad.”

_Only because Frank yelled at you._

“That’s not true!” Gerard cried. “I was only going to splash it—not drop it on him. I’m not that mean!”

_Yes you are. You fucking manipulate everybody._

“No I don’t,” Gerard said, pulling the blankets away from his face and staring at the ceiling. He didn’t want to face the man sitting at the foot of his bed—the one that looked too much like him. _Just_ like him. Only thinner and sicker with longer hair and lots of eye shadow.

_You make Frank hate you._

“Shut up,” Gerard said.

 _You’re_ nothing _to him. It’s_ me _he wants. Not you._

“Stop,” Gerard said.

_You’re pathetic!_

“He liked me _before!_ ” Gerard cried. “I’m not that different, am I?”

_You’re nothing now. You used to talk—now all you do is blubber like a fucking baby. You’re such a child._

“No, I’m not. You would, too, if you’d been there!”

 _I_ was _there. Idiot. Fuckin’ idiot!_

Gerard sobbed and rolled over onto his stomach. He tried to burry himself in more of the blankets, but there just didn’t ever seem to be enough.

_You used to be worth something, Gerard. You used to fight. You used to win at everything. Now all you do is lay in bed. What good is that?_

“It’s hard,” Gerard cried.

_So what? Frank’s leaving you. He’s leaving. Because you’re too pathetic to stop bawling and let him have his way._

“He doesn’t want me like that,” Gerard whispered.

 _And that’s_ your _fault. Because you cry like a baby when you ask. Remember with Master? Remember when you’d just wait for him to come home and—_

“No,” Gerard whimpered. 

_That’s why Frank doesn’t love us anymore! Because you can’t quit crying long enough for him to even want to get it in!_

“Stop!” Gerard pleaded, beginning to sob. “I’m gonna wake Frank and he’s gonna make you leave,” Gerard said, not at all sounding convincing.

_Sure. Wake fuckin’ Frank. Cry all over him and make him hate you even more._

Gerard cried out in pain and rolled to the far side of the bed. He was right…that voice was right. He began sobbing as the man at the foot of the bed continued to harass and taunt him, calling him names and spit cruel insults at him.

_Keep crying like that and he’s going to wake up…_

Gerard whimpered softly and pulled himself out of the warmth of the bed. He checked Frank’s sleeping form in the dark and then crept toward the door. The light that came in when he cracked it open caused Frank to sigh sleepily and roll onto his side.

With a choked sob, Gerard went from the bedroom into the kitchen, trying to get as far away as possible in the tiny apartment. 

Bear and Pig jumped off of the couch in the living room and ran into the room to see what their master was doing, but quickly lost interest when they received no food.

As Gerard watched them walk slowly back into the living room, he caught the shadow of his tormentor slide across the floor.

“No,” Gerard cried, cowering back against the counter. One of the knobs on the cupboard dug into his back, but Gerard didn’t care. He didn’t want harmed again. “No,” Gerard whimpered, putting up his hands to cover his face when the man came into the kitchen to find.

 _Let Frank go._ The voice said coldly.

“I _love_ him,” Gerard cried.

_I love him more… I can give him what he wants…what he deserves. You’re worthless to him. You can’t even please him._

“I’m getting better,” Gerard cried. “I get to go to work tomorrow. Please!”

 _Let_ me _take care of Frank. You go on to work._ I’ll _be here when you get home._

Gerard closed his eyes tightly and pressed further against the cabinets. The voice did not come again and he slowly lowered his arms and opened his eyes. 

There was no one there.

( ) ( ) ( )

“You _hit_ me again!” Gerard shouted. 

Frank woke up to being violently shoved and almost falling off the edge of the bed.

“What?” He asked, slowly sitting up and looking toward the clock. He still had an hour before he needed to get up, but Gerard was wide awake.

“You hit me!” Gerard said, giving Frank a filthy look.

“No I didn’t,” Frank said. “What are you talking about?”

“Look!” Gerard yelled, lifting up his night shirt and showing a large, dark bruise in the middle of his back.

“Gerard, if I _hit_ you that hard in your sleep, you would’ve woken up!” Frank said, reaching out and touching the bruise. 

Gerard whimpered and pulled away from him.

“Stop hitting me or I’m going to tell Mikey about it,” Gerard said bitterly. His anger made Frank’s skin turn cold. He sounded like he _meant_ it. Like he really thought Frank was beating him in his sleep and was absolutely prepared to sick Mikey on him for doing it.

“Gerard, I didn’t hurt you!” Frank said desperately. “I wouldn’t hit you!”

“Yes, you would,” Gerard said, glaring.

“Sweetheart, I’d _never_ hit you!”

“Don’t fuckin’ ‘Sweetheart’ me! I’ll put you head in the microwave.” Gerard got out of bed stiffly and stripped off his shirt. “I need gas money.”

“You don’t work until nine—it’s five in the morning!” Frank said, confused and taken aback.

“So I’m makin’ fuckin’ breakfast! Get the Hell off my back.” Still shirtless, Gerard left the bedroom, clipping on the overhead light as he went.

Frank sighed in exasperation and looked around at the bed sheets, half expecting to still be in a dream.

( ) ( ) ( )

After nearly force-feeding Frank at the table and chasing him into the shower, Gerard set to getting himself dressed and ready for work. It was only six o’clock, but he wanted to make sure he got to work on time and didn’t get himself fired on his very first day. 

Once he was dressed, Gerard listened in at the door of the shower and Frank let out a strange, deep moan that was barely audible over the sound of the rushing water.

Frank was jerking off in the shower again and Gerard was getting sick of it. Did Frank really think he didn’t know it was happening? It was an _every day thing._

Gerard was tempted to take off the clothes he’d just put on and climb in the shower with his boyfriend. 

Fuck Frank for thinking he was allowed to get away with that.

Gerard was going to have a _very_ serious talk with him when he got home from work. If he had the conversation right, Frank would probably be a weeping mess by the end of it. 

He was sick of being the pathetic one. It wasn’t fair that Frank could call Ray and whine about him behind his back. Gerard had become determined to shut Frank up for good. He’d never complained before, and Gerard wasn’t going to allow what Adam had done to mess up the rest of his life.

Frank had been _his_ and Gerard wasn’t going to let that go.

“I gotta go, Sweetheart, but I love you,” Frank said, kissing Gerard quickly on the cheek before hurrying toward the apartment door.

Gerard scowled at him as he left, not even waiting for a reply before closing the door. Downgraded to a kiss on the cheek.

Frank was such an asshole…

When Gerard was just about ready to leave for work, there was a heavy knock on the apartment door that sent his new-found confidence nearly into ruins. 

“Who’s there?” Gerard called, suddenly afraid that Frank didn’t lock the door behind him and that some unknown enemy was waiting outside—ready to pounce. Ready to hurt and to break.

“Gerard? It’s Bob.”

Cautiously, Gerard crept toward the front door. He saw that Frank had locked it when he left, and his hands shook as he slowly turned the latch and opened up the apartment.

“What is it?” Gerard asked, looking at him nervously. Why would Bob come here? Did he already get fired before he’d even come in?

“I thought I’d give you a ride to work since you don’t know the way,” Bob said. He looked at Gerard with slight confusion but still with a glimmer of understanding. “If that’s okay…”

“Okay,” Gerard said nervously. “I-I’m not ready.” Without really thinking, Gerard closed the apartment, leaving Bob in the hallway alone. 

Even though he had his wallet and his keys and everything he needed, Gerard was afraid to step out the door. Now there was the added pressure of making Bob late if he couldn’t get it together.

Gerard stood in front of the apartment door for over ten minutes, just panicking. In the end, he forced himself to go outside and carefully, slowly locked the door. He kept passing nervous glances to Bob, afraid the other man was mad, afraid he’d be struck, afraid Bob would take him away and dump him off somewhere on a side street to die.

“Are you okay?” Bob asked as he led Gerard down to his truck. Gerard just nodded and got in the vehicle slowly, planning ways to jump out if Bob tried to attack.

“I’m…Am I going to be fired?” Gerard asked. 

“No,” Bob said, confusion heavy in his tone. 

“I’m…I’m nervous,” Gerard said. Nervous was an understatement. He was shaking so hard he thought he was going to pass out.

“I can see that,” Bob said. “Don’t be. It’ll be fine. Today you’re literally just training. You’ll be with someone all day.”

“Will you be around?” Gerard asked quickly.

“Yeah. I work your shift today, so then I can drive you home.”

“What…what if I freak out?” Gerard asked quietly. He wished that didn’t have to be a question he needed to ask…

“I’ll take you home if you freak out. Don’t worry about it. You’ll be fine.”

Gerard stared at Bob anxiously, wanting to ask more paranoid questions that Bob could answer but never solve the issue. 

Who was he working with today? Was it a guy? What if he touched him? What if he attacked him? Was he a rapist? Was he dangerous? Was he a master?

Things Bob could answer, but no answer could ever calm the fear…

( ) ( ) ( )

When Gerard got into the record store, he thought his knees would collapse before he even laid eyes on his future coworkers. He saw the check-out counter, he imagined being dragged over it and assaulted. He saw the shelves, he saw things he could be pushed into and injured with. The place was just rows of tall shelves, but there was nowhere to really hide if someone tried to attack. 

This place was so dangerous—why was no one else freaking out!? Gerard wanted to call Lindsey and ask her to come visit the store. She could keep him safe…right?

Gerard could feel Bob’s eyes on him, criticizing him and sizing him up. Immediately, everyone here knew he was weak—knew he was easy and pathetic—especially the tall guy with the crazy red beard.

“Hi, Gerard. My name’s Eric. I’m your supervisor—My buddy Ted and I own the store.” The guy held out his hand for Gerard to shake, but Gerard wouldn’t dare to reach out to him. He was too large. Bigger than Bob—Taller than Ray. Terrifying.

“I’m gonna go ahead and set up for the day,” Bob said to his boss. 

“Awesome,” Eric said before gesturing to the skinny man beside him who had three piercings in just one eyebrow and two in his lip. Terrifying. This place was terrifying, and Gerard just wanted to go home and cry.

“I’m Bill, you’re gonna be training with me today in the back,” the skinny guy said. He’d seen what had happened when his boss had tried to shake Gerard’s hand and didn’t bother.

“Don’t worry, man,” Eric said softly. He stepped closer to Gerard who backed away just as fast. “Bill, you go ahead in back. I’ll be there in a minute.” 

The skinny guy walked away and Gerard passed a quick glance over his shoulder at the front door. Bob had locked the door since the store had yet to officially open, but the action just made Gerard feel trapped.

“Hey, I know about you, so don’t worry,” Eric said softly. Gerard passed a quick glance to Bob, trying to get angry but too afraid. “No, I mean… I always look people up before I hire them, you know? Check their Facebook, look at their background check, see if they’re the type of person I can have around.” He kept his voice low, but Gerard was mortified. If this guy had looked him up, what all did he know? _Everything?_ “If you ever feel like you need to take a break, or go out back for some air, just go on ahead, okay?”

“I’m… I’m not…” Gerard couldn’t help the shaking and he felt like he was about to break into a thousand pieces.

“Do you want to go see the back where you’ll be working?” Eric asked. 

Gerard passed a nervous glance to Bob, the only one here knew could protect him, and then back at Eric. The guy was large, but he didn’t seem mean…

But he could still be dangerous. If Eric tried to take him, Eric would succeed. If someone else took him again, Frank was going to leave him. He was going to be broken, used, and _alone._

“Okay,” Gerard said quietly, his voice hardly audible. Eric nodded and started walking back toward the far side of the store. Gerard looked over at Bob and hesitated a moment before following him.

“It’ll be fine,” Bob said. “They’re not going to touch you.”

“What does he know?” Gerard asked anxiously, looking over to Eric who was waiting patiently by the door to the back room.

“He looked you up. He…He _know,_ okay?”

“I can’t…I can’t take that,” Gerard said before taking a deep breath.

“Look, only Eric knows, and you don’t work with Eric, you work with Billy. Billy doesn’t know anything about it. You’ll be fine.”

“Are they…”

“Dude, you’re fine,” Bob said. “Now go do your job.”

Gerard made a quiet noise of pain and started towards Eric at the back of the store.

“So, this is the stock room,” Eric said, holding the door open for him. “As you can see, we’ve got a lot of boxes.” The room was small, dark, cold, and cluttered. Billy was already sifting through boxes and it made Gerard anxious. There was too much happening and he couldn’t cope.

“I…”

“All you have to do is open these boxes and sort things out. We get a lot of records, we sell a lot of records, and you put out the new stuff.”

“Out?” Gerard asked. He was told he would work in the back—going out front in the store to stock was _not_ working in the back!

“Yeah. Don’t worry, you’ll be working with Bill and Bob, and they’ll make sure you’re alright. Nothin’ to worry about, right?”

“I…Okay.” Gerard stared at the wall of the back room and did his best to keep his composure. This was the only chance he was going to get at rebuilding his life, and he couldn’t let himself mess it up.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank had been home for an hour before Gerard barged into the house. He locked the door behind him quickly and hurried from the front room into the bathroom where Frank could hear him throwing up. 

“Gerard?” Frank asked, hurrying from the kitchen to the bathroom door. “Are you okay?”

He could hear Gerard choking and gagging, but when Frank tried to open the door to check on him, it was locked.

“Sweetheart?” Frank asked. 

“I’m fine,” Gerard called, flushing the toilet even though he was still gagging. 

“Are you sure?” Frank asked, cringing when he heard Gerard throw up again. This time in the sink.

“Just…Just go away!” Gerard screamed. 

“What happened?” Frank asked.

“Nothing,” Gerard said, turning on the faucet and coughing as he washed away the mess.

“Gerard….”

“Just leave me alone,” Gerard mumbled. “I don’t want you in my face just because I’m sick. I can take care of myself! I don’t need you babysitting me!”

“Gerard, I love you… I’m gonna make something light for dinner, okay?”

“Whatever,” Gerard mumbled. 

Frank retreated into the kitchen and began sifting through the cupboards for something light that wouldn’t irritate Gerard’s already upset stomach. He could only imagine his first day at work hadn’t gone well, and even though they needed the money, he really hoped Gerard wouldn’t go back.

It was selfish, but he wanted Gerard at home where he was safe. The world was too dangerous for him and Frank didn’t want him to risk getting grabbed by someone and hurt.

After about forty minutes, Frank heard the bathroom door open and Gerard walked slowly into their bedroom. The door closed and Frank really didn’t expect Gerard to come back out. Whenever things go to be too much, Gerard _always_ got under the blankets and hid.

So when Gerard stepped out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, Frank was actually impressed.

“Are you okay?” Frank asked, turning away from the cupboards to look at Gerard who had changed into a different sweater.

“They got some hotwings for us at work for dinner,” Gerard said softly.

“Oh?” Frank asked, turning back to the cupboards and sighing. He wasn’t even going to admit that it was nerves…

“It was really, really spicy. Made my stomach hurt. I’m surprised I made it home without throwing up in Bob’s truck.” Gerard grabbed Frank around the waist and buried his face in the crook of his neck.

“Do you not want dinner?” Frank asked softly. 

“My stomach still hurts,” Gerard mumbled. “You can make something, though. I’ll probably eat it later.”

Frank wanted to turn around and wrap Gerard up in his arms, and tell him he didn’t have to pretend he was so tough. He didn’t have to hide that he’d been frightened. He didn’t need to feel ashamed…

Frank loved him no matter what. There was no reason to lie and say he was okay when he was obviously terrified.

“It’s okay, Honey,” Frank said quietly. “How was work?”

“It went pretty good, I think,” Gerard said, squeezing Frank tighter and sighing softly. “Except…”

“What?” Frank asked gentle, turning around in Gerard’s embrace and putting his hands on his lover’s hips. “Did something happen?”

“Well, my boss ran a background check on me and found out my whole life story, so that makes it more uncomfortable…”

“I’m sorry,” Frank said gently. 

“Do you wanna go to bed?” Gerard asked softly, his mouth pressed against Frank’s ear. 

“I was gonna make dinner…”

“Well, I wanna fuck.”

“No you don’t,” Frank said, pulling away and trying to reach for a box in the cupboard.

It caught him off guard when Gerard shoved him forward into the counter, making his hipbones and his stomach smash against the edge.

“Ouch—Gerard?” Frank tried to turn around to look at him, but Gerard just pushed him again and slammed his head down against the counter. “Fuck!”

“Now, you’re gonna listen to me,” Gerard said, pressing up against Frank from behind and bending down over him in order to whisper into his ear. 

Frank took in a shaking breath and tried to keep himself calm. Apparently, Gerard just wasn’t in the mood to hear the word ‘no.’ Gerard wasn’t violent—Gerard didn’t mean to hurt him. He wasn’t trying to be—

“I’m sick of you telling me what I want and what I don’t want—do you understand me?” Gerard hissed. 

“Gerard, you’re—” 

“Shut up,” Gerard snapped. He increased the weight he had pressing down on Frank’s back, making him feel as though his ribs were about to be cracked against the sharp edge of the counter.

No, Gerard was _definitely_ not in the mood to hear ‘no.’

“Gerard, you’re really hurting me,” Frank choked out, trying to hold his breathe so his ribs wouldn’t dig into the hard surface beneath him.

“Then fucking say yes,” Gerard breathed. His voice was rough and cold. It didn’t even sound like Gerard at all. It sounded like a demon in his skin and for a moment Frank wondered if this was Gerard at all. Was it Gerard, or was it a memory?—was he just reenacting a memory from long ago?

“Gerard, no,” Frank wheezed. He tried to straighten himself up, but screamed in agony when Gerard bore down on him harder. The pressure on his chest really did make it feel as though his ribs were about to crack.

“Say yes.”

“Gerard!” Frank whimpered when he felt Gerard grind against the back of his thighs. This was ridiculous… 

“Either you’re going to say yes to me, or I’m gonna crack your fuckin’ skull,” Gerard seethed.

Frank’s body went rigid because he could tell it was real. Gerard _meant_ it. 

“Baby, you’re crushing me,” Frank choked. 

Gerard growled but took some of the weight off of Frank’s chest so he could get enough air to breathe.

“Come on, Frank,” Gerard hissed.

When Frank gave him no answer, Gerard thrust against him and slammed his chest back down onto the counter.

“Stop it!” Frank screamed. He didn’t know why Gerard was acting this way, but he wasn’t going to respond to it. If he let Gerard get away with it, wouldn’t that just make him do it more?

“Either you’re gonna fuck me, or I’m going to fuck the shit out of you,” Gerard growled, leaning down next to Frank’s ear and biting it once he was finished speaking. It wasn’t a playful bite either—it was meant to hurt, and it hurt like hell.

“Quit!” Frank yelped, trying to turn his head away, but unable to escape from Gerard’s teeth. “Gerard! You’re hurting me—Stop!”

“I had a shitty day, Frank—and I expect you to let me come home and have you,” Gerard spat, biting the back of Frank’s neck this time.

Frank screamed and thrashed against the counter, unable to worm his way out from under Gerard despite his best efforts. Gerard wasn’t letting up, and the more Frank tried the angrier he got.

Then Gerard grabbed for Frank’s belt, and that was when Frank really lost it. He wasn’t going to let Gerard do this to them. He was obviously just having some kind of break down—he was upset and scared from work and he was trying to impersonate his master.

But he didn’t need to do that—he didn’t have to go that far. Frank _understood_ how it felt to be controlled and hurt. Gerard didn’t need to remind him.

“Gerard, stop it!” Frank screamed, trying to get his hands off of the counter to stop Gerard from unbuckling his belt. Gerard had him pinned so firmly that he couldn’t get his hands beneath the counter, and he was afraid that if he succeeded, Gerard was going to break them. “Quit!” Frank shouted. “Gerard! Stop it! I said to stop it!”

Gerard growled, but didn’t speak, tugging at Frank’s pants once the belt was unlatched. It really wasn’t long before he did manage to pull them down off of his hips, but before they could sag anywhere close to his knees, Frank flung his head backwards and slammed into Gerard’s nose as hard as he could.

Gerard screamed in pain and immediately stumbled backwards, his hands going to his face to cover his nose which was gushing blood. 

The first thing Frank did, even before turning around, was apologize in his mind for treating Gerard so poorly. He turned around and saw Gerard sink to the floor, covering his face and sobbing pitifully. There was nothing left in his form that showed even a sliver of how violently he’d just been acting. 

Frank quickly pulled his pants back up to his waist and latched his belt, cringing when he saw a small puddle of blood forming on the floor in front of his boyfriend.

Mikey was going to fucking kill him for this…

“Frankie,” Gerard sobbed, sounding like a hurt child as he sat on the floor and sobbed.

Frank was reluctant to get near him—prepared to be attacked yet again. 

“I-I think you b-broke my nose,” Gerard cried, screaming and flailing one of his hands, showering the kitchen with drops of blood.

“Shit,” Frank said, dropping down at Gerard’s side and gently pulling his hands away from his nose. 

“It hurts!” Gerard sobbed, pulling his hands away and turning so his shoulder faced Frank.

“I’m sorry,” Frank said. “You attacked me.”

“I wasn’t going to hu-hurt you!” Gerard cried, his voice going shrill when Frank reached out to touch his nose. It was definitely broken.

“Gerard, you were about to…” Frank shook his head and got up to get some ice from the freezer.

“I’m c-calling Mikey,” Gerard sobbed. 

Frank closed his eyes tightly and let the freezer door slam shut.

“You tried to _rape me!_ ” Frank shouted.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you!” Gerard repeated, spitting when the blood poured into his mouth.

“Tilt your head back,” Frank said, grabbing a kitchen towel and going back down to Gerard’s side to wipe the blood away. Gerard screamed at the contact, but held still when Frank remained gentle. “It’s okay,” Frank said softly, wiping the blood off Gerard’s chin and then instructing him to hold the cloth over his nose and to keep his head back. He got up to wrap the ice in another towel and tried to stop the shaking that had overcome his limbs.

He was _terrified._ Not only had Gerard turned suddenly violent, he’d actually broken his boyfriend’s nose… He’d never even risen a hand to Gerard in his life, and now he’d seriously injured him.

“I was just going to give you a blowjob—ow!” Gerard screamed when Frank tried to gently place the makeshift icepack on his nose.

“No you weren’t,” Frank said.

“I love you!” Gerard screamed. “I wasn’t going to hurt you!”

“You already were, Gerard,” Frank said, watching the blood run down Gerard’s neck and stain the collar of his shirt.

“I-I wanted loved! You said no…”

“You kept going,” Frank said gently.

“I wanted you…” Gerard wailed pitifully and lowered the towel from his nose. It was soaked through with blood, and the sight of it made Frank’s stomach tighten.

“I’m sorry, Gerard,” Frank said. 

Suddenly, there was a sharp knock on the door and Frank got to his feet in an instant.

He knew who that was. Gerard didn’t need to pick up the phone to call Mikey. He had a sixth sense…

“Open the fucking door, Frank!” Mikey shouted.

At the sound of his voice, Gerard immediately went silent and tried to get up off the floor. Gerard thought he was going to go for the door of the apartment, but instead Gerard took the icepack with him into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

Frank walked over to the apartment door slowly and unlocked it. 

“Where is he?” Mikey snapped. “Why the fuck are you covered in blood?—Where’s Gerard?” Instead of angry, Mikey looked afraid. “Is he okay?” 

He looked absolutely frightened—like he thought Gerard had slit his wrists.

“His nose is broken,” Frank said, stepping back and letting Mikey inside. 

“How?” Mikey asked, staring at Frank and looking around the living room for signs of his brother.

“I… He’s in the bathroom…”

“Get him _out_ of the bathroom!” Mikey yelled. “Take him to a hospital!”

“He…locked himself in,” Frank said, not giving any more information than necessary. 

Mikey gave Frank one last worried look and then sprinted awkwardly over to the bathroom door and began knocking. 

“Gerard? Are you okay?—I’m gonna take you to the hospital, alright?”

“Just call Lindsey!” Gerard cried.

“Lindsey? The—The nurse from the mental hospital?” Mikey asked.

“Please? She…She’ll fix it—I don’t want to go to the hospital!” Gerard turned on the sink and screamed when he tried to wash the blood off his face, not realizing that he was just making it worse.

“Where’s your phone?” Mikey asked. “What’s he number?”

“On the bed,” Gerard whimpered. 

“Okay,” Mikey said. He passed a look to Frank before rushing into the bedroom of the apartment. He came out a moment later and Frank barely had time to back away before Mikey ambushed him. “What the _fuck,_ Frank!” 

“What?” Frank asked, ducking when Mikey went to punch him. “What!?”

“You’re supposed to protect him! You said you wouldn’t hurt him!”

“I-I didn’t!” Frank cried, meaning he hadn’t done it on purpose. He didn’t understand, Mikey had been concerned when he’d gone into the bedroom, why had he come back out angrily?

Unless…

Gerard had gone in there after work…

What if he set something up and called Mikey so he’d come over—he’d staged the fight so he’d get hurt and then have something to look pitiful about.

What the hell was going on!?

“You didn’t!?” Mikey shouted. “Then what’s that all over the fucking bed in there?”

“What?” Frank asked, stepping carefully around Mikey so he could go into the bedroom. 

On the bed sheets, right in the middle of the bed, was a large splotch of blood—like Gerard had been taken there by force. Liked be been raped and bled. 

That had _not_ been there when Frank had gone to work.

“Mikey, I didn’t—”

“Oh, what!?” Mikey shouted, following him closely. “Like Gerard called me crying, saying he felt inadequate to you for _no reason!?_ You fucked him? You tore him up? You broke is damned nose! What the fuck, man!? You said you loved him!”

“I do!” Frank screamed. “Mikey, I didn’t do that!”

“Oh, so he planted the blood there himself? Broke his own nose?”

“Mikey, he tried to grab me,” Frank said, trying to reason with him.

“So you rape him?” Mikey snapped.

“I didn’t! Mikey, that wasn’t there when I got home from work—he’s only been here about half an hour! I couldn’t have—”

“You broke his nose, Frank!” Mikey shouted. He looked enraged, and Frank stepped back from him. 

“I swear to God, Mikey—I have no idea what happened in the bedroom. It wasn’t like that when I got home!”

“Oh, sure!” Mikey spat. “Tell me this, Frank—was it even Adam in the townhouse that night, or was that just you?”

Frank tried to speak, but nothing came out. Mikey went back into the bedroom and returned with Gerard’s phone.

( ) ( ) ( )

Lindsey hadn’t known what to think when she heard Mikey answer on the other line. She’d been expecting Gerard, and when it was someone else, she was immediately afraid something had gone wrong. Gerard had hurt himself—he’d gotten so scared by his first day of work that he’d attempted suicide.

“This is Mikey—Gerard’s brother?”

“What’s wrong?” Lindsey asked, knowing something wasn’t right. Worried about her friend.

“Frank fuckin’ raped—get off!—He raped my brother and broke his fucking nose.”

“ _What?_ ” Lindsey asked, her blood freezing in her veins.

There was no way… Frank would _never_ do such a thing to Gerard. She could hear Frank shouting in the background, but couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“There’s blood all over the place and Gerard told me to call you—his nose is broken. Can’t you help him at all?” Mikey asked, sounding both pissed off and worried.

“Yes,” Lindsey said quickly. “Can you put Gerard on the phone? Please? Just for a minute.”

“Aren’t you coming?” Mikey asked.

“Yes—I just want to see if Gerard needs anything…anything more to help his injuries.” Lindsey listened as Mikey knocked on the bathroom door. She heard Gerard’s sobbing and knew immediately that this was serious.

“Lindsey?” Gerard wept.

“Hey—What happened?”

“It’s my _nose,_ ” Gerard cried. 

“Frank broke it?” Lindsey asked.

“Y-yeah,” Gerard stammered, sobbing into the phone.

“Did he hurt you anywhere else?” Lindsey asked, completely devastated at the thought of Gerard being hurt so badly by the one person he loved and trusted. 

“No,” Gerard whimpered.

“What about in the bedroom?” Lindsey asked. “Mikey said…he said there was blood.”

“It’s from l-last week,” Gerard cried. “When he…when we tried…”

“Oh… Gerard, why did Frank hit your nose?” Lindsey asked softly.

“I…D-don’t tell Mikey,” Gerard whispered.

“Okay,” Lindsey said, grabbing her keys and walking toward the door of her apartment. Something was going on here and she wanted to know what. It just didn’t feel right. Frank wouldn’t hurt Gerard, not typically.

“I…I had him pinned on the counter and…he threw his head back and hit me.”

“You had him pinned?” Lindsey asked.

“I was just… I wasn’t going to hurt him.”

“What about the bedroom?” Lindsey asked again. If the blood had been old, she doubted Mikey would’ve commented on it… 

“I… Lindsey, I made a mistake,” Gerard wept. “I-I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“What happened, Honey?” Lindsey asked. 

“I set Frank up,” Gerard cried.

“Set him up for what?” Lindsey asked, grabbing a first aid kit and leaving her apartment. 

“I don’t know,” Gerard sobbed. “I-I made it look like he hurt me, and I called Mikey a-and I made Frank hurt me and…I don’t know.”

“You _wanted_ Frank to hurt you?” Lindsey asked.

“Yeah…”

“Why?” Lindsey asked, keeping her voice gentle so Gerard would keep speaking. 

“He said he wouldn’t sleep with me and I got pissed at him so…so I planned today to t-teach him not to say no to me—now he’s gonna leave me, or Mikey’s gonna _kill him._ I didn’t see it ending like this. I didn’t see it ending this way!” Gerard started screaming and Lindsey heard Mikey force his way back into the bathroom and take the phone from him.

“Lindsey?” Mikey asked. 

“Yes, I’m here,” Lindsey said. “I just reached my car; I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. Make sure he keeps the ice on his nose and keeps his head back to help stop the bleeding.”

“Okay,” Mikey said.

“And, Mikey?” Lindsey said, knowing Gerard would hate her, but seeing no other way to fix Gerard’s problems. He obviously couldn’t do it himself, and she’d rather be damned than let her friend sink into ruins.

“Yeah?”

“Gerard just told me something important, but I don’t want you to say anything.” Lindsey got into her car and rested for a moment with the key in the ignition.

“What?—What did he say?”

“Just…check him for any other injuries. Like to his wrists or his thighs. I think he’s trying to cover something up.”

“Like what?” Mikey whispered. 

“A fresh injury, maybe. I don’t know—something he could’ve used…could’ve used to make the mark in the bed.”

“He was _raped._ ”

“Just check for wounds,” Lindsey said. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Lindsey hung up before Mikey could argue any more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is... Mmm. More will be up soon. Just remember, in Dogs, Gerard always was a little bit...twitchy. That's all.


	23. Chapter 23

_Chapter 23_

Lindsey didn’t know what to expect when she knocked on Frank and Gerard’s apartment door. A neighbor that was leaving shouted obscenities at her for being associated with the noisy faggots, but had fortunately walked away before Frank opened the door.

“So…how is he?” Lindsey asked, coming inside and brandishing her first aid kit.

“I don’t know,” Frank said, shaking. “I just… I was just making dinner… He grabbed me…” 

She could tell from his face that he was about to go into shock, and she guided him over to the couch where he sat down heavily. His eyes were completely vacant, like he saw nothing at all—not even the little dogs that licked at his fingers.

“Where is he?” Lindsey asked, looking around the small apartment. She could hear muffled cries from somewhere in the tiny space, but couldn’t pinpoint it.

“Mikey… He went in the bathroom and Mikey’s helping him.”

“Okay,” Lindsey said. “Well, I know how to treat a normal break, so he should be okay. Don’t worry. You did what you had to.” Even though she knew she was here to nurse the physical wounds, she was aware that the emotional ones were also in need of being addressed. Fortunately, she was trained in handling both.

“I… I was just making dinner,” Frank repeated. He looked up at her with sadness and confusion evident in his face.

“Gerard is…a little borderline. He has mood swings, and sometimes he gets violent,” Lindsey said gently.

“I was going to make him dinner and he grabbed me—I broke his nose.”

“He grabbed you,” Lindsey said, nodding in affirmation. She needed Frank to keep calm, otherwise Gerard was just going to panic when he saw him. 

“I’ve never even… _slapped_ him before. I… I don’t hurt Gerard,” Frank said. He lowered his head and finally acknowledged the dogs at his feet. He picked up the fluffy white one and pulled it to his chest. “I’d never hurt him on purpose…”

“I’m going to go check on him. Just try to stay calm, okay?”

Frank didn’t answer and Lindsey walked down into the small hallway to the bathroom door. She knocked gently, but didn’t wait to be asked to come in. She founded Gerard sitting on the floor crying while Mikey, who sat on the edge of the bathtub, stroked his hair like he was some kind of cat.

“Hey, Gerard,” Lindsey said, looking around at the blood on the sink and the floor. When Gerard looked up at her, she saw that he smeared the liquid all over his face, and his nose—all the way out to his cheeks—was covered in a dark, purple bruise. “Oh, yeah—I’d say your nose is broken—do you have ice? Well, put in back on your nose—you need to keep down the swelling.”

Gerard put the towel full of ice back on his nose and whimpered.

“Does he need to go to the ER?” Mikey asked. Lindsey was surprised at how calm he was remaining despite all the blood. It looked like someone had been murdered in the tiny bathroom, and Gerard was a nervous wreck. He was barely able to speak, and all he could do was tremble and shake.

“No—Not unless he starts having trouble breathing. Can you get him some Tylenol or anything with acetaminophen? The pain’s gotta be killing him.”

As soon as Mikey stepped out of the room, Gerard tried to explain his side of the story, but he was becoming so anxious that his sentences all ran together and he didn’t make any sense.

“Hush,” Lindsey said, keeping her voice gentle but firm. “Lean your head back—stay that way. Keep the ice still.”

She knew if she commanded it, Gerard would listen. He’d always listened to her when she became forceful. Part of it was because he’d been a slave—part of it was because he was loyal.

“Frank doesn’t have any Tylenol,” Mikey said, his tone accusatory. Lindsey looked at him darkly and flicked her gaze down to Gerard who shivered when he picked up on the tension.

“Please, just run to the store and buy some—if he takes ibuprofen it’ll make the bleeding worse. We need to get the bleeding to stop, and we want to make sure the pain stops, too. And pick up some ice, too. He’s going to need lots of ice for the rest of the night.”

“I… Okay.” Mikey hesitated at the bathroom door for a moment and then stepped away, cursing at Frank as he left the apartment.

“I didn’t mean to,” Gerard cried. Lindsey just shushed him.

“I’m going to clean up your face, okay? If that blood dries, it’s going to take some scrubbing to get it off.”

Lindsey looked around the bathroom and finally found a dark hand towel in the cupboard over the toilet. She wetted it in the sink and pumped it full of hand soap.

“When Mikey gets back with the pills, I’ll make you another ice pack, okay? That one’s all bloody.” Lindsey sat down on the floor and began gently dabbing Gerard’s forehead with the wet cloth. 

“It really hurts,” Gerard cried.

“I know,” Lindsey said gently. “Now, I want you to tell me what happened, okay? But you need to stay calm—don’t freak out. It’s done. Just explain to me, and I’ll help them understand.”

“Frank’s gonna leave me,” Gerard said, sobbing and then crying out in pain. Lindsey shushed him and wiped at his forehead and eyebrows gently to get the blood away. The cloth left a film of bubbles on the skin of his forehead and between the hairs of his eyebrows, but soap was better than blood.

“Frank’s in shock, Gerard,” Lindsey said. “He doesn’t know what happened—he’s not mad at you.”

“I-I grabbed him,” Gerard cried.

“Yes, you did. And he broke your nose. I know this part of the story.”

“He just kept saying no to me…if he’d said yes—”

“You planned to grab him before he said no to you, Gerard,” Lindsey said. “Why is their blood in your bed?”

“I…I cut open my elbow,” Gerard said.

“Your elbow?” Lindsey asked, setting the wet cloth down on her jean-clad leg and reaching for Gerard’s left arm. 

He whimpered and extended it to her slowly. She rolled up his sleeve and saw that he’d covered the wound with a folded sock to keep the blood from seeping into his shirt. The cut itself wasn’t bad, but the skin of the arm was thin and the wound was still oozing bubbles of blood.

“I’m going to wrap this up for you, okay? And you’re going to tell me why you cut your arm.” Lindsey picked the towel up from her leg and wiped at the bloody cut. Gerard didn’t so much as flinch, even when Lindsey covered it with antibiotic cream.

“When I was at work my boss said he knew about me,” Gerard said, his voice choked with pain.

“Okay.” Lindsey kept affection out of her voice because she needed Gerard to understand that this was serious and he needed to explain himself if he ever wanted things to go back to normal.

“It made me so mad…”

“So…because of that you wanted to…” She had to be careful with her words so she didn’t set Gerard off. The wrong thing could make him fall into hysterics or a fit of rage. “You had to get the feeling out—you had to express it.”

“Yeah,” Gerard cried. 

Lindsey finished bandaging Gerard’s elbow and proceeded to wipe his left hand clean of the blood.

“So tell me why you cut your elbow.”

“I wanted Mikey to come see me—he hung up on me last time and I knew if I got hurt he’d…”

“Mikey didn’t want to see you?” Lindsey asked softly. She met Gerard’s gaze and saw the amount of emotional agony in his eyes. It made his eyes so deep…

“He hung up,” Gerard said quietly.

“Tell me how it happened—you came home from work _mad._ What happened?” Lindsey asked.

“I threw up a lot,” Gerard said. “I threw up _a lot._ And I got so _sick_ of feeling sick. I… I wanted to stop feeling so fucking pathetic. I-I wanted to get a job where no one knew, and that guy knew and he told me. I don’t like being looked at like I’m some piece of glass, ready to break.”

Gerard tried to lower the icepack from his nose, but Lindsey stopped him. The swelling still needed to go down before he could take a break from the ice. The bleeding, at least, was subsiding. 

“Then you went to your room?” Lindsey asked.

“I did. I… I was really mad—like pissed the fuck off. So I took the scissors off Frank’s dresser and…I was going to cut something up. Just the sheets or something, but then I knew Frank would see later and ask me why I did it—so I cut _me._ And then I called Mikey…”

“Were you going to cut your wrist first, Gerard?” Lindsey asked softly, as gently as she could.

“Yes,” Gerard said, falling forward and pushing his head against Lindsey’s shoulder. “But Frank would have to see that, and I was—I got _mad._ ”

Gerard let the rag full of ice fall onto the bathroom and Lindsey just let him rest against her. 

“What made you angry?” Lindsey asked.

“I don’t wanna say,” Gerard cried.

“Come on,” Lindsey said gently. “It’s okay—I won’t tell them anything that you don’t want me to. I’m your _best friend._ I just want to help you, okay?”

“Sometimes I see things,” Gerard whispered.

“What things?” Lindsey asked, making Gerard sit up so she could return to washing his face with the cloth.

“Me…”

“You?”

“And I say things… Really mean things.”

“You…hear a voice?” Lindsey asked.

“No,” Gerard said, shaking his head quickly and cringing from the pain. He was trying to lie now, afraid of her reaction. Afraid she’d tell him what he already knew—that he was losing it.

“Okay. So you got angry because you… _realized_ something. What did you realize?” Lindsey asked, willing to pretend that Gerard just meant he’d had an epiphany and that he hadn’t been hearing voices.

“That Frank just… Frank doesn’t wanna fuck me, and he never will. And Mikey won’t want me around because he thinks I chose Frank—and I did, and Frank’s gonna leave me, and if they’d both just let me die I wouldn’t be having this problem,” Gerard said, swatting Lindsey’s hands away and turning around on the floor so his back was to her.

She saw the shift visibly happen in Gerard’s face. As soon as he spoke of Frank, his eyes turned hostile and his posture changed. It was like he forgot he was even in pain. 

Definitely borderline.

He was still the same man, but he couldn’t cope with the pain any longer. When it got to be too much, he decided to become angry instead. He had no control, so he took control. He snapped, and instead of feeling pathetic, he was going to prove himself to be in control.

His plan had been simple and easy—completely foolproof except he hadn’t anticipated that he’d want to back out at the very last minute.

As Lindsey understood it, Gerard cut himself and had come to the realization that he could use his blood to his advantage. He put it in the sheets—a place he was used to seeing it—and called Mikey. Somehow, he’d formed a plan in a matter of minutes. It was like the other side of him was an evil mastermind. He grabbed Frank, pushed Frank to hurt him, and got his nose broken just in time for Mikey to show up…

If Gerard hadn’t lost his cool when his nose broke, Mikey could’ve put Frank in the hospital tonight. 

Lindsey just didn’t understand why Gerard backed down…

“Gerard, let me clean you up.” She was willing to let the conversation drop for now. She’d heard all she needed to for the moment, and she really just wanted to make sure she treated his nose before he went into shock from it. 

Gerard slowly turned back towards her, his eyes still angry. 

“If Frank hadn’t hit you, what were you going to do to him?” Lindsey asked, keeping her tone indifferent.

“I was going to give him what he deserved,” Gerard mumbled, flinching when the rag Lindsey was using to clean his face got too close to the bridge of his nose.

“Gonna fuck him?” Lindsey asked, avoiding eye contact. It was a test—if she played angry, Gerard would stay angry. If she got sad, Gerard would copy her.

“Gonna fuck him up,” Gerard muttered. “I mean, when I didn’t want him, he was all over me. Now I want him and he just walks out? That’s not fair—I could cheat, you know? I could find somebody else!”

“Gerard, what was it like with your master?” Lindsey asked. Immediately, Gerard shrank into himself. 

“Bad,” Gerard mumbled. 

“Did he ever hurt you in the kitchen?” Lindsey asked.

“All the time,” Gerard said, pulling away from the rag in Lindsey’s hand.

“Did you do to Frank what your master did to you?” Lindsey asked, locking gazes with Gerard so he would know she expected an answer.

“I _had_ to!” Gerard pleaded. “He was going to leave me…”

“Gerard, he’s not going to leave you…”

“I really didn’t mean to hurt him,” Gerard cried. “I was just going to scare him—I just wanted to scare him.”

“Well, you scared him,” Lindsey said softly. 

“I miss him…”

“Well… Giving him rape trauma isn’t going to help make him want you, Gerard.”

“I know…”

“Now, he’s out there on the couch having a panic attack,” Lindsey said. Now that she had an assessment of what was happening, she felt that she could mediate. She wasn’t a trained psychologist, but she understood Gerard and she was sure that if someone in this apartment would just _talk_ to someone else, things could get better.

“Can I talk to him?” Gerard asked, about to burst into tears again. His nose was horribly swollen and bruised, but it was only slightly crooked. 

“If you want to, Gerard…”

“Is he mad?” 

“Gerard, he’s _scared._ He broke your nose… Did you really think it was all going to be okay?—What did you want to have happen?”

“I don’t know,” Gerard cried, lowering his head.

“Keep your head up or you’re going to keep bleeding,” Lindsey said firmly. 

“I thought if…”

“What?” Lindsey asked.

“If I was Master, he’d love me again…”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Lindsey said quietly. “It just doesn’t work that way.”

( ) ( ) ( )

It was over four hours before Lindsey left the apartment. She’d been able to get Gerard changed into clothes that weren’t bloody, and got most of the crimson fluid off of his face after his nose finally stopped bleeding. While she helped change his shirt, Frank and Mikey silently cleaned up the bathroom. Frank was still mentally stuck against the kitchen counter, and although he touched Gerard’s hands as Lindsey was leaving, he still hadn’t spoken a word to him.

Mikey helped Gerard take his pain killers and prepared another icepack for him, but he couldn’t get Gerard to talk to him. Lindsey had to explain what happened—how Gerard got depressed and chose to get angry instead of sad. She said something about Gerard hearing voices, and Gerard relying on impersonation in order to handle his feelings.

It irritated Mikey a little that Frank had yet to say a word other than “I was making dinner,” but he had to admit that he understood. Mikey had seen Gerard’s mood swings before, back when they still lived with their parents. Gerard would break mirrors and windows—anything he could put his fist through sometimes. This time it wasn’t a piece of furniture that got caught in the crossfire, it was Frank.

And Frank wasn’t taking it very well.

When Lindsey was gone, Mikey had turned to his older brother and felt at a complete loss. He didn’t know what to say or do… he didn’t want to leave Gerard alone—or leave Frank alone with him—and he just couldn’t help but feel that if Frank just kept a closer eye on Gerard, things like this wouldn’t have to happen.

“Frank?” Gerard said, once the door was closed and Lindsey was long gone.

“I…I can make dinner,” Frank said softly. He was looking at Mikey when he spoke, as if that was enough of an invitation.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard said. “And not…not just because my nose got broken.”

“I’ll…make dinner,” Frank said quickly, getting up from the couch and hurrying into the next room. 

“Frank!” Gerard called. 

“Gerard, give him a minute,” Mikey said. “Just sit on the couch with me. Let’s play with your dogs.”

Mikey sat down on the couch and Gerard quickly followed him. Bear was sitting on the couch sleepily, and Pig was laying down in front of the television. Mikey clicked his tongue and the fat pug hurried over to him, sniffing his hands in search of food, but not losing interest when he didn’t find any.

“I fucked a man to buy that dog,” Gerard said softly.

“Yeah… Well, you’ve fucked a lot of people,” Mikey said. He knew it wasn’t the right thing to say, but it was all that came to mind. When Gerard started sulking, it was impossible to calm him down or cheer him up. 

“I wish he loved me,” Gerard said quietly.

“He _does,_ unfortunately…”

“He told me he doesn’t want me,” Gerard said.

“Gerard… You’re really… Gerard, you’re really fragile, okay? One minute you’re okay, and the next you’re a wreck. He can’t keep up with you— _you_ can’t even keep up with you…”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Gerard said quietly.

“For what?” Mikey asked, picking the fat pug off of the floor and setting it in his lap. 

“That Adam raped me.”

“Yeah, I know,” Mikey said. He didn’t like admitting that he was wrong and that he’d torn Frank apart for no reason. But it was hard not having an outlet. There was no one he could even vent to about what had happened, and without having someone to blame, Mikey felt helpless. It just seemed right to accuse Frank. He should’ve been there… He said he would always protect Gerard.

“I don’t think he’s gonna want me now,” Gerard said softly.

“Go talk to him,” Mikey said. “He’s baking—his mind’s off of it.”

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank burnt himself three times while trying to put his pan in the oven, and after the second time, he was almost sure he was doing it on purpose.

It just didn’t make sense. He’d just been trying to make dinner… Why had Gerard grabbed him? Why did he try to break his ribs and have sex against the counter?

Gerard had never acted violently towards _him_ before… It was terrifying being on the receiving end of that horrible rage.

When Gerard crept into the kitchen, Frank looked at him with pity. He couldn’t be mad at Gerard, and he couldn’t be afraid of Gerard either. 

As long as he could see Gerard’s eyes, he could tell how he was feeling. Right now, Gerard was sad and scared. That could change in an instant, but Frank was just happy that it was over.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” Frank said when he saw Gerard standing nervously in the doorway. As soon as he spoke with affection, Gerard was on him in an instant—hugging him, carefully kissing him, and gently caressing his chest and ribs.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard said softly, running his fingers gently over Frank’s stomach as if feeling for sore spots. 

“I’m okay,” Frank said. It wasn’t a lie—he was _alright,_ but his chest still hurt, and his head still hurt…

“I wasn’t going to hurt you,” Gerard said, looking Frank in the eye. 

It was a lie, and Frank knew it, but he also understood that it was still somewhat true. In his right mind, Gerard would never hurt him. When he was panicking at the lack of control, Gerard was just a ticking time bomb. 

“It’s okay,” Frank said. “My head hurts a little, but… I’m okay.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch tonight, so you don’t have to—”

“No,” Frank said, looking past Gerard at the wall. Yeah, he was afraid of what might happen in the night, but he couldn’t let Gerard out of his sight. It was too dangerous—he’d get in his car again and disappear. It wasn’t cold out anymore, but the heat could kill just as surely as the cold could.

“Oh,” Gerard said, lowering his head but quickly lifting it back up, afraid it would start bleeding again.

Frank saw the dark bruise covering his lover’s face and he felt so guilty… If he’d waited it out, Mikey would’ve knocked at the door and it would’ve been over. There was no reason to be cruel. There’d been no reason to fight him…

“Do you want me to sleep with you tonight?” Frank asked. It wasn’t even a possibility to say no to him now. He would just snap again, and feel unwanted. 

“Can we?” Gerard asked, sounding too eager for a man with a broken nose and bloodshot eyes.

“If…If you’re okay later,” Frank said. 

“I’ll be okay,” Gerard said, looking ridiculously excited. It was like he was being given a reward.

Was that was sex was to him? A gift? Some kind of a prize? 

Frank guessed that it had always been a sort of reassurance for Gerard after all. As long as his master was sleeping with him, his master would keep him. When his master stopped wanting him, he’d been put through the ordeal of being neglected and sold. 

“I really do love you, Gerard,” Frank said. Gerard made it look like the words broke his heart, and Frank just extended his arms so Gerard could embrace him again.

He didn’t see it…

No one did.

He didn’t know that when Gerard gently kissed the top of Frank’s head, Gerard was smirking. He was smirking because he’d won.

Everyone else was broken, and things couldn’t have gone any better.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short, but only because another update is on its way soon--just a few details are bogging it down so I thought I would post this half of the chapter early so the delay would be shortened at least a little :) Enjoy!

_Chapter 24_

Frank was practically a nervous wreck by the time he entered the bedroom. Mikey had left a little over an hour before, and Frank had gone to take a shower. He stalled as long as he could, knowing he couldn’t possibly reciprocate Gerard’s lust. He really tried to fluff himself up under the hot stream of water, but every time he’d start to get hard, memories of the evening came back and he just started crying.

How could Gerard possibly want to make love after having his nose broken? He couldn’t! He was just doing it to see Frank crumble, and Frank knew it…

Frank really didn’t want to play into the game, but he really didn’t see any other choice. It was either play Gerard’s games or dump him…and that really, _really_ wasn’t an option.

He’d met Gerard when he’d been nineteen—practically still a kid. He’d built his life around loving Gerard, and he didn’t see that every changing. Yeah, Gerard was fucking mental, but Frank loved him to death…even the bad parts. 

Even the wicked parts…

Eventually, Frank had to leave the shower, and when he crept into the bedroom—naked and still wet—Gerard was waiting eagerly in the bed. He was sitting cross-legged at the center of the bed, dressed in pajamas but still looking lustful and eager.

“H-hey, Baby,” Frank stammered, trembling from both cold and anxiety. He covered himself with his hands and just stood in the doorway shaking, not sure how to act. 

His eyes were immediately drawn to the massive bruise covering Gerard’s perfect, pretty nose. It was the second time his nose had been broken…it made Frank feel so guilty.

“Come here,” Gerard said, patting the bed beside him. He looked confused—like he couldn’t understand why Frank had aversions to getting close to him.

“G-Gerard, I…I _can’t,_ ” Frank pleaded. He couldn’t hold back his sobs, and he had to turn away from Gerard just to avoid seeing whatever look he had on his face—whether it was anger, hurt, or pity. He didn’t want to see. He couldn’t take it.

“Why?” Gerard asked softly. 

“I just… Gerard, I _can’t._ I tried in the shower and…I can’t get it up, okay? I’ll… I’ll give you a blowjob if you want one or…you can _top_ … But, Gerard, I really, _really_ don’t want to. Not tonight, please?”

“Okay,” Gerard said gently.

Frank looked back at his boyfriend slowly, almost terrified by his accepting tone of voice. He was waiting for it to flip—for Gerard to become angry and manipulative.

“Okay?” Frank repeated nervously.

“Can we…talk instead?” Gerard asked, shuffling backwards towards the head of the bed and pulling the blankets over his lap.

“Okay,” Frank said, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. There had to be more to it… What would Gerard want to talk about? Something painful… Something to make Frank feel guilty for turning him down. “I’m going to…” Frank didn’t finish explaining; he just hurried over to his dresser and pulled on a pair of clean underwear.

Frank slowly sat down at the foot of their bed, keeping his eyes trained on Gerard. He was ready to be attacked…kissed, groped, raped, anything. He was ready… And that made it so much more difficult when Gerard didn’t move.

“What do you want to talk about?” Frank asked.

“Us,” Gerard said, looking down at the blanket quickly and picking at the fibers.

“Okay,” Frank said, furrowing his brow. Was Gerard going to ask to break up? That’s what it felt like, and it made Frank nervous. 

If only the nerves could encourage him to fulfill Gerard’s physical needs. 

“What about us?” Frank asked when Gerard didn’t say anything.

“Would you get mad if…if I asked you to tell me the story about the day we met?” The way Gerard stared at the bed when he asked made his request seem innocent, but Frank knew better. Gerard was mad, and Gerard was asking him to relive that day just to hurt him—just to make him get back in his place. 

“You know that story, Gerard,” Frank said quietly.

“I mean…I want to know your whole day that day,” Gerard mumbled. “Before you came to the auction and met me.”

“Gerard, that was… that was _years_ ago,” Frank said. “I went out for cigarettes—that’s all I remember.”

“ _I_ remember that day,” Gerard mumbled.

“Gerard, you… I remember _seeing you,_ ” Frank said gently, looking at Gerard for reassurance. “You were so beautiful, Gerard. And…you _looked_ at me that night. I saw your eyes and…I had to get you out of there. He said he was going to murder you and…” Frank wiped a tear away from his eye and saw that Gerard was starting to tremble. “I love you a lot,” Frank said.

“I love you too,” Gerard whispered.

“I really… I really don’t know what I’d been doing that day. It was a long time ago… I’d probably been at work at the diner. So… I woke up and showered and…worked.”

“I woke Master up that day,” Gerard said. “And we took a shower together and he kissed me a lot. I didn’t have a clue… I mean, he _slapped_ me when we showering because he wanted a blowjob and I said no. I really hate those—they make my stomach sick.”

“Oh,” Frank said, nodding like he understood even though he didn’t. Gerard claimed he hated blowjobs, but they were always his weapon of choice when he wanted Frank to sleep with him. 

“Who did you fuck before me?” Gerard asked.

Frank looked up quickly in time to see Gerard attempting to conceal his insecurity with bitterness. 

“I…well, a lot, but I dated some guys in high school,” Frank said. “Like… _two._ ”

“What’s it like?”

“What?” Frank asked, scooting closer to Gerard who was nestling down in the blankets like a child receiving a bedtime story.

“Dating in high school?”

“Bad,” Frank said with a small, forced laugh. “Especially at a Catholic high school—can’t let anyone know, can’t let anyone see.”

“Did you let them fuck you?” Gerard asked, staring across the room at his reflection in the mirror on Frank’s dresser.

“Um…yes?” Frank said, not understanding why Gerard started to look frightened. 

“Were they better than me?”

“What?”

“Better,” Gerard repeated, staring at his reflection, eyes wide—gaping.

“What’s wrong with you?” Frank asked, scooting over to his side of the bed and blocking Gerard’s view of the mirror. 

Gerard cringed and curled himself against Frank’s leg, as if hiding from something.

“Gerard, what’s wrong?”

“Were they better than me?” Gerard asked. “At fucking—were they better than me?”

“We…we were virgins so obviously not…” Frank said, rubbing Gerard’s shoulder. This didn’t seem like one of his normal tricks. It was almost…

It was almost like someone had said something to terrify him. 

( ) ( ) ( )

“Oh,” Frank said. Gerard picked at the blanket, knowing what Frank was thinking. Frank was thinking that Gerard was lying…because he was. 

He fucking loved blowjobs—at least when he could give them to Frank. 

_No, you don’t…_

Gerard sighed heavily, and it was the last moment of peace before the surge of thoughts hit him all at once. 

_You suck at blowjobs—he got better ones from his exes. He misses them. You know it. He’d give anything to have a normal partner—he doesn’t want a fucking train wreck like you._

“Who did you fuck before me?” Gerard asked, feeling angry and possessive—hurt and worried. 

“I…well, a lot, but I dated some guys in high school. Like… _two._ ”

_He loved them—he wishes you were them. But you’re not—you’re a filthy, disgusting, whore. Worthless. Ugly. Used up and old._

“What’s it like?” Gerard asked, trying to shake away the voice. He knew what would come when the voice took over. He didn’t want to hear it…

“What?” Frank asked. Frank scooted closer to him on the bed and Gerard curled up further under the blankets, trying to keep the monsters at bay.

“Dating in high school?” Gerard asked. What he remembered of highs school—his freshman year—was a great deal of bullying and a lot of drugs to cope with the humiliation.

“Bad,” Frank said. He laughed, and it made Gerard anxious. “Especially at a Catholic high school—can’t let anyone know, can’t let anyone see.”

_He wants his relationships a secret._

Gerard felt a hand fall on the back of his neck and he trembled. It was happening…

_He likes secrecy—and you’re just a washed up public scandal. Everyone knows about you—And if they don’t, all they have to do is search you on the internet. Fucking gross whore._

He tried to will the voice away but couldn’t.

_Do you really think he’s actually having trouble fucking you because of something you’ve done? Face it—he’s fucking someone else. He’s with someone else because the sight of you disgusts him._

Gerard looked at the mirror and saw with horror that the old version of himself was standing right behind him, about to crawl over him on the bed. 

“Did you let them fuck you?” Gerard asked, watching as that monster stroked his cheek and then leaned down to whisper in his ear. Gerard trembled, not wanting to know what that beast wanted to say—that beast had gotten his nose broken, and Gerard didn’t want any more pain. 

“Um…yes?” Frank said.

_He hates you, pretty boy. He’s fucking your brother behind your back—that’s why Mikey pretends to hate him._

“Were they better than me?” Gerard asked, trying to think about the kinds of guys Frank would sleep with in high school. He felt physically ill at the thought of Frank going behind his back with Mikey… It wasn’t possible, though. The voice was lying—because Mikey _did_ hate Frank. 

“What?” Frank asked. Gerard barely heard it over the words that his twin in the mirror was whispering. The figure was looming over him, touching Frank’s shoulder and getting ready to fist his hand in Gerard’s hair. 

“Better,” Gerard repeated, staring at his reflection. He didn’t feel it when the person in the mirror yanked his hair, but he felt sick to his stomach when his reflection was no longer a reflection at all. The version of him that was dressed to please his Master was pressing heated kisses onto the mouth of the Gerard who’d been lying on the bed. 

They started making out, and Frank was just sitting there like he didn’t see it happening—like he didn’t see Gerard getting fucked by himself in the mirror.

“What’s wrong with you?” Frank asked. Gerard almost cried in relief when Frank moved to sit at his side of the bed. His body blocked Gerard’s view of the mirror, but now Gerard could hear the exchange instead of see it.

He could hear himself fucking himself over… _literally._ It was happening right behind him.

When Frank’s body blocked the horrifying picture in the mirror, Gerard shivered and curled closer to his body, careful not to press his nose against Frank’s leg.

“Gerard, what’s wrong?”

“Were they better than me?” Gerard asked, feeling like he might burst into tears. “At fucking—were they better than me?” He couldn’t help but feel that if he could just be better—less crazy—Frank would want him like before… because honestly, why would Frank want to fuck someone who was out of his fucking mind?

“We…we were young, and most of them were virgins so obviously not…” Frank started rubbing Gerard’s shoulder, but it didn’t help Gerard to relax.

“You were the first guy I fucked—was I terrible?” Gerard tried to go back to that night—the first night Frank had allowed him to be on top. 

He’d gotten so nervous that night…he’d accidentally hurt Frank while trying to prep him, his nerves kept making him go soft, and Frank sighed in exhaustion more than he’d moaned in pleasure… Gerard knew he was terrible in bed. It was a wonder Frank hadn’t left him the next morning…

“You were fine,” Frank said, ruffling Gerard’s hair and massaging his shoulder. 

“I sucked…”

“You were a virgin… You were really cute,” Frank said. “Nervous is…kind of cute.”

“I don’t want to go to work tomorrow,” Gerard muttered softly. He couldn’t imagine how he would look to Bob and the other employees at the record store with a bruised and bloody face. Bob would wonder if he’d gotten attacked again, and his boss would probably think he got in a bar fight.

“I’m sure you could call off, Sweetheart,” Frank said gently, stroking Gerard’s hair.

“I don’t want to call off either,” Gerard muttered. 

“I’m sorry,” Frank said gently. “Are you…okay, Gerard?”

“No,” Gerard answered. “Not really…” 

“What’s wrong? You know you can tell me… Gerard, I’d never…I’d never do anything to…”

Gerard listened to the way Frank’s voice changed as he tried to claim he would never cause him any harm. He knew it wasn’t true now that he’d broken his nose—now that Gerard had _made_ him break his nose. At the same time that it was refreshing to hear Frank suffer through the emotions of uncertainty, insecurity, and sheer terror, it was saddening to see his lover hurt.

“I see things,” Gerard whispered.

“See things?” Frank asked. “What things?”

“Bad things,” Gerard answered. “They scare me…”

“What things?” Frank pressed. “Sweetheart… What do you see?”

“You’ll send me back to the hospital,” Gerard whispered. As much as he liked Lindsey, he didn’t want to have to visit her in there every day again…

“No, I won’t. Just tell me what you see,” Frank said, kissing Gerard’s cheek softly and trying to persuade him with comfort.

“No,” Gerard said. “I can’t…” He wouldn’t explain it, but it wasn’t the hospital he was truly afraid of. He just couldn’t bear to give Frank more reasons to pity him and deny him physical affection. Honestly, who would want to sleep with a guy who kept seeing images of himself in the walls? No one… Especially not Frank.


	25. Chapter 25

After about two weeks, the swelling had gone down in Gerard’s nose and the bruises had mostly disappeared. His attitude had gotten a little better, but he refused to say anything more about the things he saw or the voices he heard.

Frank didn’t think his lover had turned schizophrenic—he _knew_ it was flashbacks and panic attacks. Just like he knew Gerard wouldn’t want to share them in fear of making himself look any weaker.

But it was hard for Gerard to act tough when the terrors had begun infiltrating ever part of their lives. He woke up in the middle of the night panting and sweating. Sometimes just his sudden movements would wake Frank in the middle of the night—other times it would be Gerard violently shaking his shoulder to get the terror to go away.

Frank was starting to get exhausted, but he wasn’t going to turn Gerard away or scold him for waking him up in the night. If Gerard trusted him enough to wake him when he got scared, Frank wasn’t going to push it.

Frightened Gerard was better than Angry Gerard. Since the broken nose, Gerard had slowly become less and less manipulative and vindictive. For the first few days he would make cruel comments and mutter that it was Frank’s fault for everything in their lives. Then, all of a sudden, the nightmares hit and Gerard was putty in Frank’s hands.

It seemed that he was only fighting to be in control when he wasn’t being controlled himself. The nightmares were control. The hallucinations were control. He grabbed for power when he felt his slipping, but once he lost it he was willing to submit to anything.

Ray had come over one day and Gerard had practically groveled at his feet for no reason… Started apologizing for things that had happened year ago and offered to make it up to him by buying him gifts or getting him rare albums from the record store…

It was disturbing, but Frank understood. Gerard had suffered so much at the hands of other people; he was going to lash out, he was going to fall into depression. Gerard would never be _perfect,_ but he could at least be _kind of_ okay.

“Baby! I made us dinner!”

Frank was ambushed the second he stepped through the door. Gerard had the day off work, and whenever he had to spend a day alone he clung like crazy.

“You did?” Frank asked, making sure his tone was appreciative as he hugged Gerard back and nuzzled his shoulder gently. He smelled fresh—implying clean laundry and a thorough shower. 

“I did,” Gerard said gently, snuggling against Frank’s body as they stood in front of the door.

“It smells good,” Frank said, even though the only thing he could smell was their pear scented body-wash. 

He lived for days when Gerard was loving like this…

“I rented a movie, too,” Gerard whispered.

“Aw,” Frank said, pulling back so he could give Gerard a gentle kiss. “We’ll have to go out for dessert—it’ll be a date night. We haven’t had one in a while.”

“I…I wanted to stay in,” Gerard mumbled.

“We can just skip dessert and cuddle,” Frank said. “I can bring a pie home from the diner to tomorrow and we’ll have dessert tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Gerard said, smiling bashfully while biting his lower lip.

It had been so long since he’d acted like this… Since he’d acted the way he had before he’d remembered it all.

“Where are the dogs?” Frank asked, noticing that his pets weren’t bouncing at his feet like normal.

“I…I put them in the bedroom. They kept barking at me when I was cooking and it…made me nervous.” Gerard suddenly looked uneasy and Frank, desperate to stop him before he crashed, pressed a quick kiss onto his cheek.

“Yeah, they do that to me sometimes—it means the food looks good and they want it, too.” Frank smiled at his boyfriend, but Gerard’s eyes were still clouded. “What did you make me?” Frank asked, starting for the kitchen and pausing when Gerard didn’t follow.

All it took was _one thing_ and his mood would crash…

“Just…Just some food.”

“Sweetheart, come here,” Frank said, going back to Gerard and pulling him back into an embrace. “I love you—you’re too cute.”

“I had…a bad day,” Gerard said quietly.

“What happened?” Frank asked, rubbing Gerard’s back firmly and kissing his cheek to console him.

“Guy at the movie place… Called me fag and got in my face. I just walked in the door…”

“The guy’s an asshole,” Frank said reaching up to stroke Gerard’s hair, knowing the length of it was what attracted people’s attention. “You’re beautiful—don’t worry about them. Did he hit you?—did he hurt you?”

“No,” Gerard said, hugging Frank tightly and leaning down on him heavily. “I’m okay, I just…Tonight will be perfect,” Gerard added in a different tone. He pulled away and tried to offer Frank a genuine smile.

He wanted everything to be perfect, that was why he showed how sad he was underneath. That way Frank could console him and he could feel safe and loved.

Sometimes Gerard was simple—sometimes he was sweet.

Frank went into the kitchen to survey Gerard’s dinner preparations. It looked to be a homemade pizza with spinach and tomato, but there were fried bits of…something scattered around atop the cheese.

“I stopped at this organic market,” Gerard mumbled. “They had a recipe for vegan bacon crumbs, I guess… I just followed what the thing said. The lady was nice—she gave me the tofu at a sale price.”

“It looks good,” Frank said, smiling and turning back to Gerard to kiss him. Gerard placed his hands on Frank’s hips and held him firmly, deepening the kiss and whimpering softly every time Frank would try to pull away.

Gerard ran his tongue along Frank’s bottom lip in a shy, nervous way. He would pull back slightly, and then spontaneously try to go deeper. Frank opened his mouth and slid his tongue along Gerard’s, remembering him as he used to be—before the memories came back. 

Frank moaned softly and slid his hands down Gerard’s sides, rubbing his hips gently but avoiding anything too forward. 

Gerard started whimpering and stepped closer, pushing his body against Frank’s and sighing into their kiss. 

Even though he knew it would hurt, Frank pushed Gerard back gently—needing to breathe and needing to know.

“Do you want dinner or do you want me to take care of you, Sweetheart?” Frank kept his voice low so Gerard wouldn’t get scared.

“I…” Gerard looked away toward the floor and squeezed Frank’s hips. 

“I _like_ taking care of you,” Frank whispered into Gerard’s ear. His boyfriend shuddered and immediately pulled Frank’s hips against his own. “Do you want to wait until after dinner?” Frank asked.

Gerard groaned softly and shook his head.

“Hungry but…” He moaned and pushed against Frank, looking humiliated and yet shameless. 

“Come here,” Frank said, kissing Gerard’s neck and letting Gerard rut against him. He really didn’t think Gerard would make it to the bedroom…

“Here,” Gerard gasped, backing himself against the kitchen table and sitting down on top of it. Frank stared at him and raised his brow. 

“Here?” He asked.

“Please?” Gerard asked, spreading his legs and leaning back—offering himself.

“Okay, just…just let me change out of my uniform and get the—”

“No!” Gerard called, leaning forward to grab Frank’s wrist to keep him from leaving.

“It’ll just be a second, Sweetheart,” Frank said softly.

“I…I like your tie,” Gerard whispered, looking down at the floor. Frank looked down at his pink, diner tie and pursed his lips. “Like your uniform,” Gerard added, sounding even more ashamed.

“Let me get the other stuff then,” Frank said, giving Gerard a soft kiss and pulling away. “I never knew you liked my outfit so well.” He winked as he said it and watched as Gerard’s cheeks flushed. 

After retrieving a condom and lube from the bedroom, he returned to the kitchen to find Gerard in the same position he’d left him—sitting on the table with his legs up and spread. 

“You look so good, Sweetheart,” Frank breathed, moving to stand between Gerard’s legs and setting the condom and small bottle on the table beside them. Gerard stared at the bottle almost anxiously and Frank began gently smoothing his lover’s hair. “Do you…really like this tie?”

Gerard looked anxious, and the best way to calm him was changing the subject—even if it was just for a moment.

“I like…your uniform,” Gerard whispered. Frank’s uniform was a simple white button-down and black slacks with the tie, but apparently it was enough to get Gerard’s attention. “I… I want…”

“Hm? What do you want, Baby?” Frank asked, running his palms over the insides of Gerard’s thighs to keep him more aroused than nervous.

“I…pretend that…” Gerard started staring at Frank’s tie and reached out to straighten it.

“Pretend what, Sweetheart?” Frank asked, kissing Gerard’s cheek and neck to keep him from freezing up. It was the first time ever that Gerard had tried making a request that had anything to do with clothing—and certainly the first time he’d mentioned playing _pretend._

Frank assumed it was probably easier on Gerard’s mind to pretend he was someone else having sex rather than his own damaged self… It was actually surprising he’d never mentioned it before.

“You’re…at work, you’re a manager,” Gerard mumbled.

“Yeah,” Frank said, sucking Gerard’s neck and making his boyfriend squirm on the tabletop. 

“M-maybe… Maybe I-I need a job?” Gerard said, starting to shake under Frank’s fingers.

“Well, if you need a job,” Frank said, trying to develop some sort of perverted alter-ego that would force applicants to have sex in order to get hired. “There’s only one way to get it.”

Gerard moaned deeply and spread his legs farther apart. He seemed pleased not to have to discuss it any further, and was ready to start acting.

“F-Frank, don’t hurt me,” Gerard whimpered, just as Frank ducked a hand between his legs to cup him and gave a gentle squeeze. 

“I won’t,” Frank whispered. “It’s just me—and you’re my Sweetheart.” 

“A-and don’t yell?”

“I won’t yell at you,” Frank said, kissing Gerard gently and offering a smile. “We’re just gonna play a game—we’ll just…be sexy about it.” 

Gerard actually managed to chuckle softly and nuzzled Frank’s neck.

“But if you want that job, you’ve gotta show me you’re dedicated,” Frank whispered. Gerard choked and bucked into Frank’s hand when he squeezed him again. 

“I-I need the job,” Gerard whispered, still shy and nervous. It was as if he was waiting for Frank to start laughing at him.

“Well, I guess I can give it to you—if you let me…give it…to you,” Frank shook his head and shrugged when Gerard met his gaze with a look of confusion. “Hey, I never said I was good at this.”

Gerard laughed softly and leaned in for a kiss.

“At least I know you don’t…do this all the time.”

“Just for you, Baby,” Frank said, kissing Gerard’s neck and running his hands underneath his shirt. 

Gerard cried out when Frank pinched one of his nipples, but didn’t pull away. Frank took it slow to keep him from getting frightened, but started to get caught up when Gerard began unzipping his own pants.

“To work at _my_ diner, you have to show that you can take care of yourself,” Frank breathed into Gerard’s ear. “Can you prove that?” He took one of Gerard’s hands and made him wrap it around his own erection. 

“Y-yeah,” Gerard stammered, beginning to stroke himself. Frank took a quick glance to see if he was still covered in abrasions from before, but most of his wounds seemed to have healed. 

But he could see where they’d come from. When Gerard touched himself, he used a too-tight grip and seemed to just pull on himself to cause pain rather than anything else.

“No, no,” Frank said, grabbing Gerard’s hand and forcing him to loosen his grip. “Be gentle—come on.” 

“Like…hurt,” Gerard whispered.

“No you don’t,” Frank mumbled. “You do it out of habit.”

Gerard whimpered and Frank leaned down to flick his tongue over the tip of Gerard’s cock, just to save the mood. Gerard flinched, but started blushing.

“Th-that’s—” Gerard’s voice when shrill when Frank took him completely into his mouth. Frank knew it wasn’t what Gerard wanted, but he hoped that if he at least provided a little bit of lubrication—even with just his spit—Gerard would be gentler with himself.

“Shh—don’t you want the job?” Frank asked softly. He put Gerard’s fist back around his erection and made him stroke himself at a more gentle pace. While Gerard was making quiet, needy noises, Frank took upon the task of removing Gerard’s shoes and pulling his jeans down past his thighs. 

Gerard kicked his jeans away and scooted back on the table when Frank came back between his legs.

“I-I need the job,” Gerard panted, wrapping his arms around Frank’s shoulders and holding him in a tight embrace—keeping him still until he was ready. Frank could feel Gerard’s body trembling as he laid himself back against the table.

“Are you sure you wanna go through with this?” Frank asked, keeping on a show-voice while still making the question approachable. He wasn’t going to let Gerard trap himself.

He knew his lover—he knew that if Gerard was commanded to do something, even now, he would obey. Even if it was a game, Gerard could trap himself by making himself feel obligated to obey. 

“I’m okay, Frank,” Gerard whispered. “It’s okay.”

“Okay,” Frank whispered, kissing Gerard’s cheek before grabbing the bottle of lubricant off the table. He uncapped the bottle and poured some of the liquid over his fingers to get them slick.

After setting the bottle aside, Frank slid his hand between Gerard’s legs and pressed a finger gently inside. Gerard winced and turned his face away, inadvertently refusing the kiss Frank tried to give him to keep him calm.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Frank whispered. Gerard kept his eyes closed and his legs started shaking as Frank worked in a second finger. “Does it feel okay?”

“Yeah,” Gerard breathed, opening his eyes slowly. He looked calm, but still somewhat frightened. 

“If you’re really good, I might even make you a server in section B—the _best_ customers sit in section B. They give the best tips,” Frank said as he began curling his fingers and spreading them until he could fit a third finger inside.

“I need tips—I need money,” Gerard said, writhing against the tabletop and stroking himself slowly.

“Oh? What do you need money for?” Frank asked before kissing Gerard’s neck and sucking on his pulse.

“I-I don’t—I don’t kn-know,” Gerard panted, squirming against Frank’s chest.

“You’re cute enough that you shouldn’t have to buy anything,” Frank said, taking his fingers out slowly and leaning back. Gerard looked almost relieved, but he didn’t move to close his legs when Frank grabbed for the condom on the table. 

“I…”

“I would think people just give things to you for free—you look good enough,” Frank said, watching the way Gerard’s cheeks burned darker with each compliment he received.

“N-not everyone thinks I’m perfect like you,” Gerard stammered, watching Frank’s hands as he rolled on the condom and slicked himself with the lube. 

“I think everyone knows you’re perfect,” Frank said, giving Gerard a gentle kiss on the lips before slowly pressing himself inside. Gerard winced and wrapped his arms around Frank’s shoulders. Before Frank had even pushed all of the way inside, Gerard’s nails were digging into his back.

Frank held still for a moment, waiting for Gerard’s grip to lessen, but it never did. He kept his nails dug firmly into Frank’s skin and only managed a small whimper when Frank pushed the rest of way inside.

He waited for Gerard’s body to relax—even though his sharp fingernails never did—and began to pull out, feeling Gerard’s muscles spasm around him. Constricting, hot. 

He knew he was supposed to be playing a role because that was what Gerard wanted, but Frank couldn’t help but give him kisses and murmur how much he loved him. Gerard sounded sad, and he wanted to make it go away…

“I love you, Beautiful,” Frank said softly, setting up a slow and gentle pace. Gerard turned his face away from the kiss Frank offered him.

“You’re supposed to be my boss,” Gerard groaned. 

“Okay,” Frank whispered, kissing Gerard’s cheek and starting to slip back into character. “You know, Shirley is really trying to get that serving position, Gerard. She’s been a hostess for months—she wants those tips. I think she might deserve them more than you, so maybe I’ll just make you a host. No tips, few hours…what do you think?”

“No,” Gerard whispered, wrapping his legs around Frank’s hips and forcing him in deeper. 

“So why do you deserve the job?”

“’C-cause I’ll do what it takes,” Gerard said with a choked moan. He scratched Frank’s back through his shirt and pressed his face in Frank’s shoulder as his lover began thrusting into him harder. 

“And who’s to say she hasn’t?” Frank purred. 

Gerard let out a sound like a growl and began scratching Frank deliberately. He rocked back his hips so Frank could press in deeper and rutted his erection against Frank’s stomach. 

“I-I want it more,” Gerard moaned. “I’ll let you do what you want—that bitch would _never_ be as deserving as me,” he seethed, his voice taking on a heavy, seductive tone. 

“And what makes you so worthy?” Frank asked, wrapping his fist around Gerard’s cock and stroking it firmly. Gerard’s entire body shuddered underneath him and soon he was attaching his lips to Frank’s neck and sucking on his skin—leaving bruises and bite marks wherever he could. “What makes you worthy?” Frank asked again.

Gerard growled and nipped Frank’s lips before answering.

“I was made for this,” Gerard breathed, locking his eyes with Frank’s and staring—intense and angry. Frank started to pull away, but Gerard latched onto him and forced him into a deep kiss, running his tongue along Frank’s lips until Frank finally opened his mouth to let him inside.

All at once, Gerard went from being a pliant “employee needing a job” to a prostitute hybrid, sucking on Frank’s tongue and clawing at Frank’s back and neck. Frank could barely even breathe, but he was afraid that if he stopped his thrusts that Gerard would launch some kind of attack.

Frank decided that it was best to just give Gerard what he wanted—that fighting or trying to stop to figure out what was happening would just cause an argument—and let his demeanor slip from pleasant to equally controlling.

Gerard was seeking a master—he was _always_ seeking a master. Saying he was made for this was an invitation for Frank to step up and be the type of man he wanted.

They could possibly discuss it later, but Frank knew that if he tried to have the “I don’t want that for us” talk right now, Gerard’s condition would once again deteriorate. He would either succumb to depression or fall into a fit of rage.

Right now, the best thing was to fuck Gerard into their kitchen table, eat dinner, and pretend it hadn’t happened.

Frank angled his hips, keeping his thrusts deliberately slow as he aimed for Gerard’s sweet spot. He knew the instant he hit it because Gerard slammed his head back against the table and acted as if he were convulsing, moaning and digging his nails into Frank’s forearms after scratching the hell out of his shoulders. 

“Feel good?” Frank asked, keeping his voice thick even though he was close to freaking out. It was never simple with Gerard—it could never just be a tryst on the table or a night in bed. It was always something…psychological. 

“Faster,” Gerard breathed, leaning up to capture Frank’s lips once again. 

Frank fisted Gerard’s leaking erection in time with his thrusts and kept the pace fast, starting to tremble when Gerard clenched around him. 

“More, baby,” Gerard moaned, slamming his head repeatedly against the table and moaning the harder it hit. 

Frank wanted to tell him to stop hitting his head—to stop trying to hurt himself, but it was the hitting that was getting him off. It was certainly doing more for him than Frank’s touches. 

Gerard’s overly passionate kisses were the only thing that made Frank feel like he was a part of the moment—he was close to feeling like some sort of toy Gerard had chosen to play with. There was little affection in his words, and the only way Gerard reacted to him was with scratches and moans. 

When he wasn’t giving kisses, Gerard was in a completely different world.

“Fuckin’ love you,” Gerard growled, seizing the back of Frank’s head and forcing him into another bruising kiss. He bucked his hips into Frank’s touches and nearly knocked the hand Frank was using to support his weight out from under him while thrashing about on the table. 

“Love you too, Babe,” Frank said when Gerard finally came up for air. 

Gerard let out a low growl and barked at Frank to thrust harder. As soon as Frank caved, thrust hard enough to cause pain and probably draw blood, Gerard gasped and his muscles started to spasm. He came into Frank’s hand within seconds, and his demeanor immediately went from seductive to clingy.

Frank softened his thrusts, listening to Gerard who whimpered either from the pain or the oversensitivity, and put his mind in a different place before the mood passed him.

He accepted Gerard’s much gentler kisses and finished after a few more thrusts.

Gerard wouldn’t let him get off the table, even after he’d pulled out and was trying to take off the condom. He kept his arms wrapped around Frank’s shoulders and continually rubbed his cheek against Frank’s neck. 

“What?” Frank asked softly, trying to gauge whether or not Gerard was about to have some kind of a meltdown. It wasn’t uncommon for him to start crying after sex, and Frank didn’t want to spur him into it.

“I love you,” Gerard whispered, kissing Frank’s cheek. Frank tried to pull away again, but Gerard held him tighter.

“I love you, too,” Frank answered, kissing the top of Gerard’s head and finally managing to pry him off his chest. “I gotta clean us up, Baby. Don’t you want to eat dinner? It looks really good.”

“After dinner…” Gerard started sitting up, his body trembling and his knees weak when he stood from the table. “D-do you want to w-watch the movie still?” Gerard asked, grabbing onto Frank’s body for support and almost dragging both of them down to the floor. 

“That sounds like a good idea,” Frank said with a smile, pulling his pants back on and checking Gerard’s thighs for blood when he bent over to pick up his jeans off the kitchen floor. There were two small drops of blood running down the inside of his left leg, but it didn’t look bad. 

“Would I have gotten the job?” Gerard asked as he pulled on his boxers and started fumbling with his too-tight jeans.

“Definitely,” Frank said, trying not to think too much about what had just happened. The roleplaying, the _horrible_ scratching, or the slamming of Gerard’s skull against the table. 

Gerard _always_ scratched if they had sex chest to chest, but never _this_ bad. 

“Who is Shirley?” Gerard asked, tripping over his pant leg and falling heavily onto the kitchen floor. The dogs started barking at the loud bang, and Frank hurried to offer his boyfriend a hand. 

Gerard just stared at it and Frank took a step back. He’d offered him the hand still spattered with cum. 

“I don’t know—someone I made up,” Frank said, watching Gerard struggle back onto his feet.

“Not someone you work with?” Gerard asked, looking at Frank cautiously. 

“No—I made sure not to mention someone I work with. I don’t want you to think I’m cheating on you—you’re too good to have to go through that,” Frank said, offering Gerard a small smile.

Gerard started to look sad.

“What’s the matter?” Frank asked, going over to the sink and quickly washing his hands before going back to Gerard who slowly sat down at the table. He was staring at the box of condoms absently, but looked almost agitated. 

Frank got a dish cloth from the drawer beside the sink and wetted it with soap and water. He went over to the table and washed away the remains of what had dripped onto the table after wiping away the white streaks of cum on his black shirt.

“Did I hurt you?” Frank asked, knowing that if anyone hurt Gerard it was himself.

“Do you think I’m weird?” Gerard asked, staring at the box until Frank took it out of his line of view. Then he just stared at his hands.

“No, I don’t think you’re weird. I think you’re cute,” Frank said, kissing the back of Gerard’s head where he’d kept hitting it against the table. He stepped into the bathroom and threw the dirty cloth into the laundry basket and then returned to the kitchen. Gerard hadn’t moved.

“Sorry I scratched you,” Gerard said, looking at Frank with bleary eyes.

Like usual, he was about to cry.

“I’m okay—it doesn’t hurt,” Frank lied. His back honestly felt like it had been splattered with boiling water, but he wasn’t about to put that on Gerard’s conscience. 

“Can I see?” Gerard asked, reaching for the buttons of Frank’s work shirt.

“Let’s just eat, Sweetheart,” Frank said, kissing Gerard’s cheek. “I’m going to go change—do you…”

“Yes,” Gerard said urgently, getting up from the table and stalking Frank into the bedroom. Once the door was open, their dogs ran out into the living room yapping and jumping on each other in their excitement. 

Frank tried to hide his back when he stripped off his shirt, but Gerard refused to let him succeed. 

“I’m so sorry,” Gerard said as soon as he caught a glimpse of all the scratches. “I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine, Sweetheart,” Frank whispered, pulling Gerard into a hug and stroking his hair gently. “I’m okay—don’t get sad. It’s okay.” Gerard whimpered as he buried his face in the crook of Frank’s neck, but so far he hadn’t begun sobbing.

“I thought if you had a shirt it wouldn’t cut you,” Gerard whimpered.

“I’m fine,” Frank said firmly, pulling Gerard back he could kiss him on the lips. 

“I’m sorry…”

“Sweetheart, I’m okay,” Frank said, smiling at Gerard softly and kissing him one last time before picking out a shirt for him to wear. “Let’s eat now, okay? I’m hungry. Then we’ll watch the movie you picked up. It’s okay.”

Gerard obeyed, but didn’t appear convinced.

( ) ( ) ( )

To Gerard, the evening had been close to perfect. He hadn’t intended to start scratching Frank to hell or start banging his head against the table, but it all swirled together into a nearly euphoric high of sex, pleasure, and a twinge of pain. 

After eating dinner—a dinner Frank really, really seemed to like—they watched the movie and cuddled on the couch until Frank said he was sleepy and wanted to go to bed.

Gerard tried to coerce him into post-date sex, but Frank turned him down. Gerard’s feelings weren’t hurt, but he had a feeling that if he hadn’t beat his head into the table, Frank might be up for a second round. 

He couldn’t help it though—the blows to the head had him disoriented and that made all of the sensations triple. The touches felt more intense, the feeling of Frank’s cock dragging in and out of him was so, so fucking good. 

It wasn’t about the pain of hitting his head—or, as he was sure Frank was thinking, an attempt to reenact a scene with his master—it was about getting disoriented. It was about being high. 

But slamming his head on a table was better than snorting coke, so Gerard didn’t think it was so bad.

“You’re pretty,” Gerard said, propping himself up over top of Frank’s body and smiling down at him. Frank was trying to sleep, but Gerard still wanted attention. He had to spend the entire day alone in the apartment, and there was only one day a week that they both had off…he missed Frank. He missed his boyfriend.

“You’re pretty,” Frank echoed groggily.

“I’m going to keep you, okay?” Gerard asked, kissing Frank’s cheek and laughing softly to show Frank how happy he made him.

“Okay, Sweetheart,” Frank whispered. “Let’s go to sleep…”

“I’m not tired,” Gerard mumbled, kissing Frank’s neck even though he knew it would make Frank angry.

“Stop—Gerard, I’ve got work in the morning and so do you.”

“But I miss you,” Gerard mumbled, falling over to lie at Frank’s side. He cuddled against Frank’s chest and ignored his boyfriend’s annoyed sigh. 

“Baby, I’m tired…”

“I love you,” Gerard pressed, wanting to see how far he could get before Frank snapped at him.

“I love you too, but you’re kind of…you’re being a little annoying right now,” Frank said, rolling over so his back was to Gerard.

Gerard refused to be off-put. He just curled up against Frank’s back and started humming—quiet enough to appear respectful but loud enough to keep his boyfriend awake. 

Frank lasted ten minutes before he snapped.

“Stop!” Frank growled. 

“I’m not tired,” Gerard whimpered, pretending to be more hurt than he was.

“Gerard…I’ve got work.”

“Can I blow you?”

“No! You don’t even like—Gerard, what do you want?” Frank asked, sitting up. “What? You’re acting like a little kid on fuckin’ Christmas Eve. What do you want?”

“To blow you,” Gerard said, feigning innocence. 

“No you don’t,” Frank sighed. “You hate oral sex,” he said, lowering his voice as if embarrassed.

“I like getting it from you,” Gerard said, taking a risk and rolling to lie between Frank’s legs, using his thigh as his pillow. 

“Not right now,” Frank mumbled. “I’m really tired—I have work in six hours. Can we please go to bed?”

“I’m really hyper,” Gerard said, turning his words into a purr and nuzzling Frank’s crotch to keep his attention. Frank just scooted back on the bed and sighed.

“Stop. I…I’m happy that you’re comfortable with me again, Sweetheart, but I’m not in the mood right now.”

“I can get you in the mood,” Gerard said, smiling at Frank as he pretended he didn’t understand the warning in his lover’s tone. He wanted to see if he could get Frank to hit him.

“No! I want to go to bed. Baby—aren’t you tired?”

“No…I want to blow you.”

Frank sighed and slumped back down onto the bed, successfully forcing Gerard’s head out of his crotch.

“Tomorrow?” Frank pleaded. “After work?”

“Really?” Gerard asked, knowing that by tomorrow his weak desire would be gone.

“If you still want to,” Frank said with a heavy sigh.

“Can’t I just do it now?” Gerard asked.

Frank let out a sound like a sob and said no.

“Please, Baby? Tonight went so well—I just want to say thanks.”

“No,” Frank whimpered, curling into a ball and putting an arm between his legs to protect himself if Gerard tried to grab him.

“But you’re so sexy,” Gerard said, letting his seductive tone take over. 

“I’m not in the mood, Gerard,” Frank said firmly.

“I can get you there,” Gerard said, licking Frank’s ear.

“Stop!” Frank shouted.

“I just want to blow you,” Gerard whispered. 

“No—why? You don’t even like to! Gerard, please quit trying to make me.”

“But you’re so sexy,” Gerard repeated.

“Not. In. The. _Mood!”_ Frank screamed. His tone was actually frightening and Gerard laid flat against the mattress. 

“Okay,” he peeped. He wasn’t daunted, just startled. He waited for about ten minutes before cuddling up against Frank’s back, just to keep him anxious and in fear of assault, and then went to sleep with a smile on his face.

( ) ( ) ( )

“Baby?” Gerard asked as he invaded Frank’s shower the next morning. Frank didn’t really mind if Gerard showered with him, but he was afraid it was going to end in a blowjob that would make him late for work. 

“What?” Frank asked, quickly rinsing the shampoo out of his hair quickly before Gerard could somehow make it run into his eyes.

“Are you mad about last night? I was just playing around.” Gerard stared at him with these big, puppy dog eyes and Frank sighed softly.

“It’s fine. I’m not mad.”

“Was I bad?” Gerard asked. Frank was terrified that this was about to turn into another “game” Gerard would use to get himself hurt for some reason. 

“You were fine,” Frank mumbled, watching as Gerard slowly wet his face and started washing it with their face wash. 

“You can hit me if you want—I won’t cry,” Gerard said. 

“I’m not going to _beat_ you,” Frank mumbled. “Are you…What are you trying to do? What do you want?” Frank knew what Gerard wanted—or what Gerard was _implying_ he wanted. He wanted a master—he wanted Frank to perform the role men were supposed to want. For some reason, Gerard was acting like he wanted Frank to be his new master, and Frank didn’t know why. 

Gerard spent over a year panicking at the thought of sex, now he was banging his head into the table and provoking Frank to screw him hard enough to make him bleed. 

The switch in Gerard’s brain couldn’t have been flipped that quickly. He was either using it as a cover up for some other feeling, or he was conducting some strange experiment.

Considering how manipulative his boyfriend had become over the past few months, Frank was willing to bet on the latter.

“I’m not going to beat you—you’re my Sweetheart,” Frank said, doing the opposite of what Gerard was encouraging. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Gerard said, sounding almost discouraged as he rinsed the soap from his face.

“Is your head okay?” Frank asked, knowing it would make Gerard anxious if he were trying to hide something and angry if it broke apart his façade.

“Yeah,” Gerard mumbled. He looked insecure. “I…I knew you’d think I’m weird.”

“I don’t think you’re weird—I think you hit your head.”

“Yeah… It made me feel all dizzy,” Gerard said, grabbing the shampoo and lathering up his hair. “It made the…the, you know…”

“The sex?”

“Yeah… It made it feel better. Because I was all dizzy.”

“O-oh,” Frank said, not sure what to make of that. If it wasn’t about pain, what the hell was it about?

“My head doesn’t really hurt—I was just disoriented. It made it feel really good.”

“Did you…have a good time? You didn’t seem to be very, you know… Satisfied.”

“I was satisfied,” Gerard mumbled. “I just…I don’t know.”

Frank watched with horror as Gerard’s face turned to sadness. It wasn’t one of his masks either. He looked haunted.

“With…You know, with Master we’d go two or…three times and…I know it’s been a long time, but it came back in my mind and… You know.”

“I’m sorry,” Frank whispered.

“It’s not… Last night wasn’t about Master,” Gerard said, letting suds of shampoo run down his face. Frank hurriedly wiped a frothy avalanche away from his forehead before it could run into his eye.

“Okay,” Frank said softly.

“I just…I mean, it’s _probably_ about him. He’s…I mean, with Tr-Trainer, I guess. They’re the ones who t-taught me. I don’t…I don’t want _hurt_ in bed, I just like feeling like something is at stake. I figured it out, you know? When I’d sleep with the strangers, it was in hopes of keeping them for the night. If I was good, they’d stay. If I was bad, they’d leave.”

Frank stood under the stream of water, speechless for a moment. It made sense. Gerard was trained to be forced into sex—even once he was free, he didn’t want to be free. He couldn’t get off on freedom. 

It wasn’t about being a slave—it was about a fetish he’d been trained to accept.

“You’re pretty,” Frank said, just to break the tension.

“Not weird?” Gerard asked, looking sad.

“Definitely not,” Frank said. “I’m the weird one. I go to work in the morning instead of staying home and kissing you all day.”

Gerard started blushing, and every time he opened his mouth to utter a comeback, he just giggled. 

He was cute when he smiled, especially when covered in suds and water. He looked genuine for the first time in weeks. Flattered at the compliment, embarrassed about accepting it, and overall excited that Frank still loved him even if he was weird.

Everyone was weird. People just had to find a person with a weirdness that matched their own.


	26. Chapter 26

_Chapter 26_

Frank rolled his eyes and tried to ignore it as the new waitress batter her eyelashes and passed him a big, cheesy grin. She was a recent high school graduate, and for some reason she had her eyes set on him. He’d known it was going to be a bad idea when he hired her, but the diner was short-staffed and they were desperate. She had experience, she was polite, and the only thing she had going against her was her beauty.

And her infatuation with him…

“So…When do you get off tonight?” The young waitress asked, giggling and twirling her blonde ponytail. Something about her demeanor made Frank wonder if she’d been a cheerleader in high school…

“At nine,” Frank mumbled, looking over the money in the register to make sure the numbers added up. “Same time as you…” He always made sure the numbers were right before he clocked out, and a few times throughout his shift as well. After he’d had a series of three thieves who almost got him fired two years ago, he made sure to keep a close eye on the cash.

“Oh—Well, I think _I’m_ going to head over to the theatre after work. It’s a Friday night. What about you?”

Frank looked up from the register and surveyed the nearly empty diner. The next rush would come in about half an hour, but now the establishment was completely dead.

“I’m going to go home,” Frank said, hoping his negative tone would give the girl a hint before he had to break out the sexual harassment conversation.

“You should come to the movies,” the waitress said, touching his shoulder. He shrugged her off. 

He really tried not to mention his personal life at work—mostly because he didn’t want the extra judgment or the AIDS rumors to start up again—but he was afraid he was going to have to with this girl…

“No. I’m going to go back to my apartment. Tomorrow’s my day off. If I went to the movies, I’d go tomorrow…” He wanted to add on that he’d go with his boyfriend, but that would start the rumors. And if he said “partner” or “significant other” it would be exactly the same…

“Oh! So…maybe tomorrow we could meet up and go see a movie,” the waitress said, smiling at him with that big, white, fake smile.

“No,” Frank said. He wished the diner had some sort of no-dating policy for coworkers that he could hide behind. He wasn’t ashamed of Gerard—he loved his boyfriend and he would never change what they had together—but he didn’t want it out in the open for the public. If his mother had taught him anything with her insensitivity, it was that people were cruel when someone went against what the majority thought was right. He and Gerard ate together at the diner sometimes, and he didn’t want Gerard to start getting dirty looks when they came in together because it was leaked that he was his lover and not his best friend.

But he was his best friend, too—but it was the sex part that would get the diner’s staff up in arms. Frank couldn’t bear to get all of the dirty looks again.

“Aw, okay…maybe next week,” the waitress said, winking at him.

“No,” Frank said. “Probably not…”

“Oh…okay then—suit yourself!” The waitress slipped away from the checkout counter and stepped back into the kitchen…probably to go gossip about how he’d turned her down and how weird he was. 

Frank sighed heavily and looked out the diner windows at the dark street… Fifteen more minutes and he got to go home to Gerard and whatever sexual exploit he had in mind for the night.

For the past week Gerard had been jumping him the second he walked through the apartment door. Though Gerard claimed to hate blow jobs, Frank had gotten about ten of them in the past four days and he felt like he was about to fall apart at the joints. Gerard even convinced him to do it in the sixty-nine position…and that was just weird.

Gerard was getting weird…

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard stood by the apartment door, shaking. Frozen. 

Frank had been so angry when he left for work that morning. Gerard spent the rest of his day terrified of what was going to happen when his lover came home. Would Frank still be mad? Gerard couldn’t handle the thought of Frank being mad…

“Baby?” Gerard called when the doorknob began to rattle. “Frankie?”

“It’s just me,” Frank said as he pushed the door open slowly. “I brought home some food from the diner if you’re hungry. What’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard cried, wrapping his arms around Frank and pressing his face into his shoulder.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Frank asked, rubbing Gerard’s back with his free hand, the bag of boxed food bumping against their legs. 

Gerard held him tighter and whimpered softly. He thought that Frank would be happier if they had more sex, but obviously he was wrong. Frank seemed to hate it every time Gerard touched him…

“I missed you,” Gerard whispered.

“Okay…” Frank said quietly. “What happened this time?” 

“You…you were mad,” Gerard said, taking a step away from his boyfriend and no less than melting into a pool in front of him on the floor. He was on his hands and knees, in the pose his master loved most, hoping his lover would respond the same way. 

“This morning? Baby—that was _this morning._ I was tired…just forget it.”

“Frank, please,” Gerard whimpered, crawling a step forward and keeping his eyes trained on Frank’s. “I’m sorry…”

“You don’t have to be sorry. Come on…Get up.”

“Frank—”

“Gerard, get up. Please?” Frank locked the door and walked past Gerard into the kitchen. 

Gerard sat down and looked over his shoulder at his lover who was ignoring him.

Ignoring him…

Gerard didn’t like that.

“Do you want the food or not?” Frank asked, trying to disguise his anger. 

Gerard slowly got up from the floor and crept into the kitchen. Instead of answering the question, Gerard just wrapped his arms around Frank’s waist from behind and rested his forehead on Frank’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” Gerard whispered.

“You don’t need to be sorry…”

“We have tomorrow off work,” Gerard muttered, terrified that Frank was going to tell him he was scheduled to work anyway because he was covering another manager’s shift. It happened before…especially when Gerard was really counting on having the day together.

“Yeah…are we going to spend it in bed like last week or do we actually get to go on a date?” Frank asked.

His harshness made Gerard’s heart drop in his chest.

“I…I was going to see if you wanted to g-go see a movie,” Gerard said. He was actually planning to stay in, but if Frank wanted to go out…then they could go…out.

“No…You just pulled that off the top of your head.”

“Sorry,” Gerard mumbled, pulling away.

“Do you want the dinner or not?” Frank asked.

“No… I’m gonna…go to bed.”

“Stop,” Frank said, turning around and fixing Gerard with a cold, tired stare. “You’re acting weird. What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing,” Gerard said, looking away toward the living room. 

“Gerard…”

“It’s nothing… I’m sorry for…asking you to fuck me in the shower.” Gerard slid out of the kitchen and curled up on the couch. He felt stupid now… Feeling upset just got him into trouble with Frank, and feeling seductive just pissed him off.

He was going to have to start hiding it again. Otherwise it was all just going to blow up in his face again.

“Gerard, don’t get upset…”

“I’m fine,” Gerard mumbled, quickly turning on the TV and trying to fight back the tears. 

“Gerard…” Frank came into the living room looking disappointed and exhausted. 

“I’m okay, Babe,” Gerard muttered. “I just…I’m watching TV.”

“Fine… I’m going to go change.” Frank walked away into the bedroom and Gerard sighed heavily. He considered going into the bedroom and making Frank see how sorry he was, but he knew that would just make matters worse… He had to act like it didn’t matter. He had to play it cool. Give it a rest…

Act like it didn’t hurt…like it didn’t piss him off.

( ) ( ) ( )

When Frank got up the next morning, Gerard was still on the couch in the living room. He’d wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and had one of their dogs in his lap. He didn’t look like he’d slept at all, and Frank couldn’t tell if it was anger or depression that was causing him to scowl.

“Hey,” Frank said, tilting his head in an attempt to get Gerard to look at him.

“Hey,” Gerard responded, staring at the blank TV screen. He sounded depressed, but his gaze looked angry and focused. 

“Gerard, I’m sorry about last night… I’ve been having a bad week at work.”

“Whatever,” Gerard said softly. “I don’t care.”

“Well, you obviously do, and I’m _trying_ to talk to you about it,” Frank said with a sigh. Gerard was so stubborn. He was either crying, throwing fists, or playing dead. There was nothing in between.

“Just forget it,” Gerard mumbled. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does,” Frank said, coming over to the couch and sitting down beside Gerard who pulled away from him. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“No…”

“Then it obviously bothered you. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…. I told you to forget it.” Gerard turned his face away to look at the wall so Frank couldn’t even get the liberty of reading his expression.

“Are you mad because I didn’t want sex last night?” Frank asked, knowing he was probably about to get himself slapped. If Gerard wasn’t crying, it meant he was angry. Anymore, anger just meant violence.

“Just shut up!” Gerard shouted. “God…you’re so annoying.” Gerard got up from the couch and fled to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Frank stayed on the couch and sighed, looking down at Bear who looked disoriented after being dropped onto the floor. 

He didn’t know if he’d somehow embarrassed Gerard or if he’d brought up a bad memory. It was hard to keep up with Gerard—especially after all of the changes he’d gone through.

When they’d been together the first time, Frank had practically been an expert at understanding his mood swings. Then, the second time they dated, he got used to pretending that the past never happened. If Gerard was sad, it was because of something at work. If Gerard was mad, it was because of something at work.

Now, it was any combination of everything in the world. He could be sad because of his job—he could be pissed off because of something that happened to him at his master’s hands… Anything. There was nothing Frank knew to say that could help him.

After letting Gerard calm down for about half an hour, Frank crept back into their bedroom and found Gerard lying on their bed, pretending to be asleep.

“Baby… Please just tell me what’s wrong.”

“No.” Gerard growled and turned away when Frank sat down on the bed. 

“You know I love you, right?” Frank said.

“I know you feel obligated to stay with me,” Gerard muttered. “I know that much.”

“I _love_ you. I don’t…feel obligated.” He could lie to Gerard as much as he wanted, but they both knew the truth. He _was_ obligated. He was the one who let their relationship go from Good-Samaritan and Victim to lovers. But he wasn’t upset about it…he liked being with Gerard for the most part—even on days when he acted like this.

“Fuck you,” Gerard said, his voice low.

“Gerard…I’m sorry. Okay? I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have yelled at you yesterday morning, and I shouldn’t have acted like it wasn’t supposed to matter to you when I came home and you were upset. I love you. I don’t mean to hurt you.”

Gerard sighed heavily and rubbed his cheek against the pillow. 

“Baby…I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ve just been having a bad week,” Frank insisted. Gerard didn’t respond to him. 

“I don’t…understand us, Frank,” Gerard mumbled. 

“What do you mean?” Frank asked, making his voice unbelievably soft so Gerard wouldn’t get angry or hurt. 

“When…when I remember and didn’t want you to touch me, you got mad…then when I’m better, you don’t wanna touch me. I don’t understand…”

“It’s just…I can’t keep up,” Frank said. To say he’d gotten _mad_ at Gerard when he’d been afraid of sex was so much of an exaggeration that it was almost a lie. Frank had been worried and anxious, not angry. But he was willing to let it slide so Gerard wouldn’t put his defenses back up. “Gerard, you know I like sleeping with you—I don’t turn you down to hurt you. I just get tired after work, and in the mornings I’m not even awake yet.”

“You yell at me,” Gerard whispered. 

“And I shouldn’t,” Frank said softly, reaching out and stroking Gerard’s shoulder. Gerard groaned, but didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t understand what they made me into…”

Frank gazed at Gerard confusedly, wanting him to elaborate on his own but so desperate for an answer that he was willing to push if he stayed quiet. 

“What…what does that mean?” Frank asked. “What your…what that guy did? He _tortured_ you.”

Gerard was silent, and Frank watched as his eyes shifted to look about their bedroom as if verifying that he was still safe in their apartment. 

“He…Gerard, he made you a victim—he abused you. I don’t understand…”

“He made me _want_ you like I do,” Gerard whispered. “I can’t help it. Even before—Frank, even before it all came back I wanted you like this… You _wanted_ me then. You like _him_ not me…not _this._ ” Gerard closed his eyes tightly and Frank was so terrified that he was about to start sobbing. 

“Gerard, I don’t care how you behave. I _love_ you… You’ve always been the same person to me—with or without the bad parts. Okay?”

“You say that, Frank, but you don’t mean it. I can tell…”

“Gerard—”

“You don’t understand… They _raped me_ until I _wanted_ it. They _beat me_ until I _wanted_ them to beat me. My _whole life_ is about finding someone who’s going to control what I do… And that’s all I want—that’s all I know. It’s…It’s too late for you to try to change me into something else. That nightmare wasn’t a year of my life—it was _eight years._ ”

“Gerard, I’m not the _controlling_ type, and I _don’t_ think you really want that… You don’t want me telling you what to do every ten minutes—you get mad when I ask you a question…”

“That’s not _me,_ ” Gerard said, a whimper overcoming his intensity. “That’s the other one…it’s like… Frank, it’s like there are two of me, but there’s not. I’m not _crazy,_ but I…I feel like half of me loves you _so much_ it’ll do anything for you, and the other half loves you like Master loved me…”

The thought was terrifying, and Frank tried to keep the expression off of his face that betrayed how horrifying that thought really was.

Loved him like his master? His master didn’t _love_ anything, and it was disturbing that Gerard still saw the treatment he’d deserved as some form of affection.

“Is…Is that why you get mad sometimes?” Frank asked, trying to ask about the episode in the kitchen that led to Gerard’s broken nose.

“It’s just how much I love you,” Gerard murmured, rolling over onto his back and looking Frank in the eyes. He looked so genuine—like he really thought a rape was love.

“It…It feels like _anger,_ Sweetheart,” Frank whispered, rubbing Gerard’s shoulder and looking away at the mirror on their dresser. “Like you’re taking what your master did out on me.”

“Never, Baby,” Gerard mumbled. “It’s just how much I love you—and I want you to accept it.”

“Gerard it’s…it’s scary when you grab me like that,” Frank said, afraid that even mentioning it would set Gerard off. 

“Frank, I’d never actually force you—just make you.” The look on his face when he said it implied he actually thought he was making sense—like he thought force and coercion were two different things. 

“In the kitchen that day?” Frank asked. He remembered how hard Gerard had tried to get him to say yes—to say he wanted to fuck. He tried breaking his ribs to get him to comply…he’d just been reenacting some scene with his master. Some scene where his master ‘proved his love.’

“I was mad,” Gerard mumbled, looking away. “I would’ve stopped…”

Frank tried to hide it when his hands started trembling. He was waiting for Gerard to attack him now. Just thinking about it brought back all of the memories, and Frank was afraid he might start to cry. 

“Frank, I would’ve stopped—I had Mikey coming over. He would’ve come to the door and I would’ve stopped and…you’d be confused but okay. I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

“You were already hurting me,” Frank whispered, rubbing his ribs in remembrance of the pain of being crushed against the counter.

“I just want to see what you’d do if you’d been there instead of me,” Gerard mumbled. Frank shot him a nervous glance and involuntarily scooted away from him on the mattress. 

“If…If I were the one with your master instead of you?” Frank asked.

“Yeah…I want to know what you would’ve done.”

“I wouldn’t have been any different from you, Gerard,” Frank said quickly. “I would’ve been hurt and…and _trained._ I would’ve been just like you…”

“You’re prettier when you’re scared,” Gerard said, sounding almost reluctant. 

“Please…” Frank said, meaning to beg Gerard not to attack him again. Gerard just stared at him, seeming to understand but not understand at the same time.

“Frank, when I ask you to… _you know…_ When I ask you like…five times a day, it’s just because that’s how much I love you. You know that, right? That I try to sleep with you as much as I can to show you how much I love you—and _just_ you. I want you to see I don’t make time for anyone else.”

Frank stared at him silently. Not sure what to say or how Gerard would want him to reply to that… The constant demands for sex were just Gerard showing love? Was he _really_ expecting Frank to believe that training and lust had nothing to do with it?

“I love you, Frank…”

“I love you, too,” Frank mumbled.

“You’re my favorite lover…”

Frank hummed, still trying to respond to Gerard’s last speech…

“Frank, it took a lot to be able to sleep with you again—I had to remember that you’re not mean. You know? That you weren’t going to hurt me? I really, really trust you. I just try to show that as much as I can and…sleeping with you is the only way to show that kind of trust.”

“I know,” Frank said softly, shaking away his thoughts knowing that they wouldn’t help him. Gerard was reaching out to him now, and he couldn’t get hung up on the undertones. “I love you a lot, Baby. I don’t mean to hurt you when I turn you down—sometimes I’m just tired.”

Gerard hummed softly and rolled over so that he could wrap his arms around Frank’s waist. 

“I really love you,” Gerard mumbled.

“I love you too,” Frank said, letting himself smile as Gerard cuddled against him. He looked peaceful and gentle when he fell into a light nap, but Frank knew that there was more in that look of happiness than Gerard was betraying. 

He was happy that they were together, and he was happy Frank listened to him, but he was happiest that he’d managed to get Frank to apologize and pity him. He was happy he’d won the argument, even if he had to stay awake all night to make himself look the most pitiable. 

Gerard was sly…but Frank loved him regardless. It wasn’t obligation. Sometimes, it was just fascination.


	27. Chapter 27

_Chapter 27_

Frank would’ve liked to have thought their conversation the other day had gone well. When Gerard confessed his deep and almost crazed love, his unbreakable trust, and all of that… But apparently it was just another one of his scams…

That, or he really just lost it when he came into the diner and saw what he had…

On that day, Frank’s car had refused to start, and since Gerard had the day off work he drove Frank to the diner and promised to pick him up after his shift was over. Unfortunately, he was working the same shift as the clingy, cheerleader-esque girl Molly. 

He put up with her thinly-veiled attempts to get him to go on a date with her, even though he finally admitted to having a “significant other” at home. She’d asked if they were engaged or married and Frank regrettably said no…then she abandoned all reserve and continued hitting on him full force.

“Frankie—come on. You never go out in the evenings. Don’t you have _any_ spice in your life?” She smirked at him and batted her eyelashes, and Frank tried _so hard_ to deter her.

Sure, she was pretty and smart and a useful asset to the diner, but he didn’t want her like that. He had Gerard, he loved Gerard, and Gerard was all he wanted—no matter how weird or crazy his demands could become.

“No. I’m going to stay in—I _told_ you, my significant other is picking me up tonight.”

“Oh, why don’t you say her name, Frank?” Molly asked, batting those long, extended eyelashes and sighing as she watched him balance the register.

“Molly, this needs to stop.”

“No, I think it needs go forward.” It was like something from some kind of fake, scripted porno! She just grabbed him—right in front of the diner’s glass front doors. She didn’t kiss him, but she “stared longingly into his eyes” and kept her arms around his neck. “Frank, you work so hard and it’s like no one here even notices.”

Frank was about to tell her that a lot of people noticed how hard he worked for the diner since he made it to general manager after working there for over four years. He wanted to argue with her, but as he opened his mouth to speak, Gerard had come through the front doors and the moment Frank heard his voice he froze—in the arms of that cheerleader.

“Frank?” Gerard choked out. 

Molly immediately let go of her manager and backed away, putting on a big fake smile before asking the boyfriend of the man she was trying to seduce how many menus he wanted for his table.

“Molly,” Frank said firmly, looking at Gerard whose face had contorted in indescribable pain. “This is _Gerard._ My partner—my boyfriend.” 

Molly’s face began to look as mortified as Gerard’s.

“Frank?” Gerard stammered a second time, looking from the waitress to his boyfriend. “I-I’m just gonna wait in the car.” All he’d seen was a hug, but he was crying before he was even out the door.

“You’re _gay?_ ” Molly asked, staring at her manager in shock.

“Yeah, I am,” Frank snapped, locking eyes with her. “And if you don’t want fired for sexual harassment, which I will be able to prove because of the security footage of you _touching_ me, you’re going to stop making inappropriate advances toward me.” 

“Fine,” Molly said, scratching her cheek and looking around the empty diner as if looking for an audience. “Sure… I mean, that’s…that’s cool. Gay… Wow. _Wow._ ” Without saying anything more, she walked through the double doors into the kitchen. Frank listened just out of sight of the doors’ windows to hear if she would start exposing him to the cooks, but when one of them asked her what was wrong, she said nothing—a bad cramp.

Frank finished his work as quickly as he could and clocked out just as the other manager walked through the front doors.

“Might wanna go out the back door—some dude’s crying on the sidewalk outside,” the manager said. 

“Yeah, that’s my…that’s my boyfriend, man,” Frank said, locking gazes with the other man—threatening that if he said one wrong word about Gerard—about the man crying on the sidewalk—he was going to punch him in the mouth. Frank didn’t care if he was found out—Gerard was more important.

“Is everything okay?” The other manager asked. 

“No—watch out for Molly. She’s in a mood.” Frank left the diner and found Gerard right where his rotational replacement said he would be—crying on the sidewalk. “Gerard, it wasn’t what it looked like. She hits on me, this was the first time she’s _grabbed_ me. I swear, Gerard, that’s all it was.”

He wasn’t even sure Gerard heard him over the sounds of his own sobs. He was too distraught to even climb into his car, and Frank doubted a few words of explanation would soothe him. 

“Gerard, I promise…” Frank sat down beside Gerard on the sidewalk and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I promise, _nothing_ is happening between her and me.”

“I-Is that Sh-Shirley?” Gerard stammered.

At first, Frank didn’t understand. Then he remembered their game when Gerard pretended to be an employee prepared to trade sex for a job. Shirley was the random name he’d thrown out to label a hostess wanting to become a waitress. 

“Gerard, no. There’s no Shirley,” Frank said quietly. “That was _Molly._ Gerard, she… Honey, I swear I would never, _ever_ cheat on you. She just hits on me. I’ve told her before that we were dating and she didn’t want to take a hint.”

“Molly?” Gerard echoed, sobbing hard and choking every time he tried to take in a breath. Frank had seen this same scene enough times in the past to know where this was heading. Gerard was going to hyperventilate and pass out if he didn’t calm down.

“Yes. Molly. She’s just an employee—a really _annoying_ employee. That’s all, Gerard. I promise…”

Gerard held his breath for a second, as if considering Frank’s words. Then he bust out sobbing again with just as much intensity as before.

“Sweetheart! I _swear_ nothing was going on!”

“You were hugging her!” Gerard cried. 

“You hug Lindsey,” Frank said, not sure why he thought that would help. Maybe bringing up Lindsey would calm him down…but it didn’t work.

“She’s my friend! I don’t even know this _Molly_ person—you’re dating her, too. That’s why you work so late…”

“Gerard! I come home at the same time—I’m _never_ late home. You know my hours.”

“Wh-why are you doing this?” Gerard wept, falling over so his head slammed into Frank’s shoulder. Frank had to grab him to keep him from sliding down onto the pavement.

“Gerard, I’m not doing anything. She just hugged me. I told her if she did it again she’d be fired—I should’ve told her when she kept trying to ask me out, but we’re short-staffed and we can’t afford to lose her.”

“So you sleep with her to keep her around?” Gerard cried. 

Frank would’ve thought this was another attempt at getting attention, but his voice sounded so broken and so devastated that he didn’t think it was possible for it all to be faked. 

“Darling, I would never hurt you like that. I’ve never touched her. Come on—tell me what you saw when you came in the diner.”

“You hugging her!” Gerard cried, shaking as Frank smoothed his hair gently. 

“Where were her hands, Gerard?” Frank asked, trying to get his boyfriend to think rationally before he passed out.

“Her arms were all over you! She was hugging you around neck and you were—”

“Where were _my_ hands?” Frank asked.

Gerard panted for a few moments, catching his breath and coughing when he tried to speak.

“O-on her sh-shoulders…”

“When I hug you, do I put my hands on your shoulders?” Frank asked gently. 

Gerard hesitated and then shook his head slowly.

“No…”

“I was pushing her away, Gerard. And not because you were walking in the door. Nothing’s going on between me and Molly. I’m in love with _you._ Just you.”

“Okay,” Gerard cried, shaking in Frank’s arms when Frank moved to hug him.

“Give me your keys, Sweetheart. I’ll drive us home.”

“Okay,” Gerard repeated, pushing the keys into Frank’s hand and crying a moment longer on his shoulder before standing up on shaking legs. 

Frank escorted him slowly to the car and helped him into the passenger seat, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek before closing the door. The ride home was relatively peaceful. The tension seemed to be gone and Gerard’s sobs were no longer threatening to make him pass out.

However, once they got home it was just a different story.

As soon as Frank closed the door of the apartment, Gerard latched onto him. At first it was just a kiss—a very violent, obsessive one. Gerard refused to give Frank a chance breathe, and kept their lips pressed together so firmly that Frank’s teeth hurt under the pressure. It could’ve been romantic if Gerard’s nose wasn’t running, or if Gerard were drooling on him, and if Gerard’s face wasn’t completely soaked with tears. 

Frank wanted to protest, but he couldn’t speak a word—and he was sure that if he said no to a man desperate to prove his love, he would shatter their relationship immediately. 

He had to let Gerard have his way—whatever it was he wanted to do.

When Gerard _finally_ stopped the kiss, Frank just stared at him. Gerard’s gaze was out of focus and hazy, but Frank wasn’t going to bother trying to bring him back.

“Do you…want to go to the bedroom, Sweetheart?” Frank asked slowly, not really wanting to go to the bedroom, almost afraid of what Gerard would do to him if he did…

“Yeah,” Gerard panted, his eyes suddenly becoming sharp. “Yeah—let’s go.” He seized Frank’s wrist and pulled him through their apartment, stopping briefly at the doorway to the bedroom to force him into another brutal kiss. 

Frank tried to appear interested, but his heart was starting to race and he was afraid of what was going to happen to him when Gerard realized Frank’s anxiety was going to keep him from being able to get it up…

If Frank couldn’t perform for him, Gerard was going to take matters into his own hands and that was something Frank was _terrified_ of. 

“Wh-what do you want to do, Baby?” Frank asked, starting to tremble as Gerard backed him into the bed. 

“Can… Can I be on top?” Gerard asked, looking at Frank with a face that said Frank really didn’t get to make the choice.

“Of course,” Frank said, shaking as he slid back on the mattress. Gerard climbed over top of him and trapped him in another kiss—moaning intermittently as he ran his hand up Frank’s chest. “Love you—love your work uniform,” Gerard purred.

Frank closed his eyes tightly and wished himself somewhere else. Gerard unbuttoned his work shirt, tossed his tie across the room, and forced Frank’s pants down in a matter of seconds…

When Gerard started unbuttoning his own pants, Frank quickly thrashed around until he was able to get his hand into the nightstand drawer. He pulled out their bottle of lube and shoved it hastily into Gerard’s hands.

“Please,” he said, staring at Gerard in fear. “Please—I don’t care about the condom, but _please…_ ” He was terrified that Gerard was going to try to break him—make him feel owned and unable to even consider cheating as a life option—and if Gerard refused to use the lubricant, then Frank would be certain that he no longer had a lover but a monster. 

“Oh…” Gerard stared at the bottle as if he’d never seen it before and then shook his head. “Right… Oh. I… I almost forgot… Sorry.” Gerard leaned down and pressed a soft kiss onto Frank’s cheek. “Sorry… Don’t be scared. It’s okay.”

Frank wasn’t soothed. Not even when Gerard’s slicked fingers were pressed inside, prepping him. He just laid still with his eyes closed, willing it to be over quickly so Gerard would go back to normal—so Gerard wouldn’t look so devastated.

When Gerard finally pressed inside, it was horribly painful. Frank wasn’t sure if it was because Gerard had hardly bothered to go through the motions of preparation, or if Gerard was trying to be cruel. He’d certainly “forgotten” to use lube on himself before lining up.

Frank clutched onto the bed sheets and trembled, his legs shaking around Gerard’s slowly thrusting hips. 

It somewhat seemed like Gerard was trying to be gentle, but Frank could tell that his lover wasn’t even in the room. When he looked at Gerard’s face, he saw nothingness. His eyes didn’t even show pleasure—he just looked gone. Angry. Bitter. Hurt.

Very, very determined to make sure Frank understood who he was committed to—who he belonged with…belonged to.

Eventually, the tears just began falling. Frank didn’t bother trying to hide it, but he refused to let himself sob or draw any extra attention. He turned his face away towards the wall and tried to remember why this was happening.

It wasn’t about Molly. It wasn’t about anything Frank had done. It was about Gerard’s master…his trainer. His abuse. Part of the reason Frank was crying was because he realized that _this_ was how Gerard had been treated almost every night with that man… The sex wasn’t passionate—it wasn’t affectionate. It was an action expressing little more than dominance and power. 

Gerard never once touched Frank’s body other than to shift his legs or pin his unmoving wrists. Frank lie perfectly still and let Gerard do what he needed…

When Gerard finished, it was with a choked moan and no regard for Frank’s nearly convulsing body. 

This was what they’d done to Gerard for all those years…

Forced him to submit even though he wasn’t fighting, watched him cry without feeling any sympathy, and acted like nothing was wrong when they finished and laid down beside him in the bed. 

Gerard stroked Frank’s cheek gently once he was done. Frank tried not to hold anything against him when he turned his eyes to meet Gerard’s gaze. 

His lover looked remorseful and still so sad… 

“Will you love me in the morning?” Gerard asked quietly. 

“Yeah,” Frank choked, forcing himself to roll onto his side and press his head against Gerard’s bare chest. 

“I just don’t want to lose you,” Gerard whispered.

“I know,” Frank answered, wondering what Gerard’s masters said when they finished torturing him. It was probably the exact same thing Frank was hearing now…

Frank forced himself to fall asleep after that—trying not to think about whether Gerard acted out of fear or anger or confused love. Gerard said that he would never “force” Frank, just “make him” have sex…

Frank understood what that meant now. It wasn’t violent, it was manipulative. It wasn’t mean, it was cruel… 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard hated himself in the morning. There was no pride in breaking Frank’s will. There was no pride in reducing his boyfriend to tears during sex. He was ashamed that he’d even taken him to bed that night. He tried to give himself credit for being distressed and confused by what he’d seen in the diner, but it didn’t soothe the burning self-loathing that started in his chest and burned all the way up to his brain. 

Frank was still asleep when Gerard crept out of bed. He got dressed, took the dogs out to use the bathroom, and then returned them to the apartment before leaving. 

Gerard walked around the town for a while, trying to keep himself from slipping any further out of his mind. He just imagined Frank waking up—sore and bleeding. Sad and broken. Hurt and untrusting.

Gerard _hated_ himself for this. There was no underlying pleasure—no euphoria around being in control for a night. He was just terrified and devastated. He’d already lost Frank once before for taking him for granted—now he’d almost definitely made that happen to him again. 

When he got home, Frank was probably going to be gone and Gerard was going to be all alone in the tiny apartment. Frank would take the dogs and disappear. Gerard would be alone…left alone to die. 

Again.

After wandering the neighborhood for over three and a half hours, Gerard slowly walked back home. He tried to keep himself from crying so that Frank wouldn’t think he was just trying to manipulate him into keeping quiet, but there were still tears in his eyes as he stepped through the door. 

“Frank?” He called softly. 

The apartment was silent, and Gerard realized that Frank still hadn’t gotten out of bed. Slowly, Gerard moved to the bedroom door and knocked before letting himself inside.

“Frank…” Gerard sat down on the bed stiffly and looked at Frank who lie with his back to the room to Gerard. “Baby, are you okay?” Gerard asked.

Frank was quiet for a long time, but Gerard knew by his uneven breaths that he was awake.

“Gerard, I…I wasn’t cheating on you,” Frank whispered.

Gerard whimpered and laid himself down beside Frank. He didn’t want to come off as fake—trying to topple Frank’s sadness with his own, but he was hurt and he couldn’t hide it. He wanted to show his sweetheart that he was sorry and hadn’t meant to lose control and hurt him.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard whispered. “I just couldn’t handle it when I saw her. I couldn’t even _try_ to think straight—it just confused me and it hurt. And…you know I always feel like I’m not good enough for you. I can’t help it. I just get worried and jealous…”

“I didn’t cheat,” Frank said. He sniffed loudly and Gerard whimpered because he knew his boyfriend was still crying.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard said, folding himself against Frank’s back and desperately wishing that he would roll over and accept his apology—even though he didn’t deserve forgiveness.

“It was like…you weren’t even there,” Frank whispered. “It was like it wasn’t you…”

“I was just so overwhelmed,” Gerard said, trying to scoot closer even though it wasn’t possibly. There was hardly a pocket of air between their bodies Gerard was pressing against him so hard—it was like he was trying to absorb him.

“I know,” Frank whispered. 

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Gerard said, kissing the back of Frank’s head. 

“I really didn’t cheat,” Frank said.

“I know… I’m sorry.” 

“Are you mad?” Frank asked, starting to shake. 

“No, I’m _sorry,_ ” Gerard said, starting to weep. “I’m _so_ sorry. I’m mad at _me_ for letting myself do that to you—I wish I hadn’t. I don’t know what happened—I really, really didn’t mean to, Baby!”

Gerard’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest when Frank finally rolled over and looked at him. His eyes were red-rimmed and moist, but he didn’t look broken and he didn’t look dead. Gerard was so grateful that he hadn’t stolen Frank’s spark—and hadn’t seriously scarred him… He hoped. 

“Do you mean that?” Frank asked, his voice void of emotion although Gerard sensed skepticism. 

“I do,” Gerard said, trying to hold back the sob that formed in his throat when he saw how intense Frank’s gaze really was. “I’m sorry, Frankie—I really love you. I didn’t mean it.”

“You meant it,” Frank said. “You just regret it…”

“I’m _sorry,_ ” Gerard cried, wanting to be able to bury his head in Frank’s chest and hide. But he couldn’t force Frank to comfort him when Frank was the one who’d been hurt this time…

“What are you sorry for?” Frank asked.

Gerard sobbed and covered his face with his hands, not wanting to admit to being the monster he’d become. 

“I raped you—and made you cry,” Gerard stammered, feeling his stomach twist into knots. 

“I said yes, Gerard. It wasn’t rape…”

“Yes it was,” Gerard sobbed. “I would’ve done it whether you said no or not… You knew that. You… You just saved yourself from the fight.” 

“I know,” Frank answered. 

“Do you hate me?” Gerard asked, trembling in fear of Frank’s answer. He knew what Frank would say, but he didn’t know what Frank really felt—whether Frank hated him or just feared him… Resented him…

“I told you last night, I still love you. You weren’t yourself last night. I understand…”

“It’s not an excuse,” Gerard whimpered, giving in and scooting down on the mattress so he could hide in Frank’s chest.

Frank sighed and put an arm around Gerard’s shoulders and kissed the top of his head, even though he didn’t deserve the affection.

“Gerard, I’ll…I’ll forgive you if you go back to seeing a counselor. You need help. I can’t help you with this—It doesn’t work when I try.”

“I know,” Gerard cried, letting himself dissolve into his lover’s hands. Frank was still willing to love him—maybe everything would be okay. 

“You can still get counseling for free through the mental health hospital…it’s part of your settlement. _His_ money pays for it… You don’t have to worry about pushing yourself too hard at work.”

“I know,” Gerard whispered. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you—really! I don’t want you to leave me.” 

“You know I won’t leave,” Frank whispered, pulling Gerard into a tight hug. “You didn’t mean it—you didn’t…you love me.”

“I really love you,” Gerard cried, returning Frank’s hug and pulling Frank against his own chest—trying to comfort his boyfriend since it was his fault for all of this. If he had been a sane, rational person, Frank wouldn’t be hurt—Frank wouldn’t be sad. Everything would be fine.

If Gerard weren’t _completely fucked up,_ everything would be fine…

“I love you too, Gerard,” Frank said quietly, actually nestling down in Gerard’s embrace. “You were gone a long time…where did you go today?”

“I walked around town…I was worried and I wanted to make sure you had space.”

Frank hummed and tilted his head up to kiss Gerard’s chin.

“I’m okay, Baby… Just a little… Just a little shaken up. I’ll be okay.”

“Let’s…let’s not have sex for a while, okay? If I try, _promise_ you’ll tell me no and remind me why. I won’t let myself ruin this again—I _need_ you. You’re my partner and I can’t let myself attack you because I feel inadequate or because I feel weak. I _am_ the weaker one, and… and that’s not your fault. I can’t take it out on you, you’re my best friend.” Gerard held Frank tightly and sobbed. 

“If that’s why you want, I think it’s a good idea,” Frank whispered.

“I want you to be happy with me and not feel like you’re trapped,” Gerard whispered. All he wanted was a normal life with a normal lover—but that was something he could never possibly have. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank sat on the couch, nervously crossing and uncrossing his legs, turning the television off and back on… Gerard was at his first appointment with his new counselor, and Frank had taken the day off work to be there when his boyfriend got home incase he was upset or scared. 

Frank knew how hard it was for Gerard to meet with new counselors. They always got hung up on the sex and forced him to give more details than he wanted about his various assaults and never really helped him recover from any of it.

This time, Gerard said he was going to start off by telling them he was over the details and that he just wanted to discuss how to cope without turning to rage and fighting for power. 

Frank was worried about how the initial consultation would go, but Gerard didn’t want him to come to the therapist’s office so Frank stayed at home…

Gerard was due back any minute. Any time…Soon. 

Frank checked his watch and his phone continuously, afraid that Gerard would come home mad—come home crying, not come home at all.

When the lock of the apartment’s door clicked, Frank jumped to his feet—then he was afraid that he would look too abrasive so he sat back down. Then when the door was opened and Gerard took a step inside, Frank was afraid he’d look too relaxed so he stood back up. 

“H-Hey, Sweetheart,” Frank said, wringing his hands and looking at Gerard anxiously as he shooed the dogs away from his feet as he closed the apartment door and locked it. Immediately, Frank’s joy turned to terror when Gerard rushed him.

The force of Gerard’s grab on him caused Frank to fall backwards, but he was trapped in Gerard’s arms so he couldn’t fall down. He was forced to walk backwards until he slammed into the kitchen table in the other room and he cried out as Gerard made him sit on the table top. 

Frank could barely hold back his cry of fear when Gerard started kissing him. Gerard grabbed his head and held it still as he deepened the kiss, running his tongue along Frank’s bottom lip and then pulling him closer. 

Frank stared at the apartment door across the two rooms and trembled. Apparently, Gerard didn’t take his “let’s not have sex” proposition very seriously when he was emotionally distraught. 

When Gerard broke the kiss, Frank opened his mouth to ask him to reconsider—to remember their agreement, but Gerard cut him off.

“I fuckin’ love you,” Gerard said, staring Frank straight in the eyes. He didn’t look sad or angry—he almost looked…enlightened. 

“I love you too,” Frank whispered. “But, p-please don’t. _Please._ ” He wanted to add more—to remind him that he wanted their relationship to build itself back up on emotions and not physical sensations, but Gerard stopped him.

“I love you like fuckin’ crazy,” Gerard said, grabbing Frank into another crushing hug. He started crawling onto the table, making Frank lie down against the cold, hard wood. Frank started moaning in fear, trying to push Gerard off of him. Gerard would just not let go…

“Baby,” Frank cried, trying to resist the instinct which told him to begin thrashing. Would he get assaulted again? Would Gerard break his ribs tonight if he said no?

“Hush,” Gerard said, taking his arms from around Frank’s torso and grabbing Frank’s head between his hands so he couldn’t look away. His eyes looked crazed and Frank was terrified of him. 

“Sweetheart, please!” Frank called, turning his eyes away to stare at the wall. Gerard grunted and started kissing him until Frank met his gaze once again.

“You are the most important thing to me,” Gerard said, pronouncing each word separately as he stared Frank down. Frank didn’t know whether this was a declaration of love or a threat… “ _Most_ important,” Gerard repeated, eyes burning. 

“O-okay,” Frank stammered, not sure how to reply. He felt the same way about Gerard, but he didn’t know if that was the right thing to say or if it would just set his boyfriend off. “I-I love you…”

“That’s just it!” Gerard cried, as if coming to some horrible realization. He started stroking Frank’s cheeks while staring down at him on the table. “You _love_ me! You _love_ me, Frank!”

“Yes, I do,” Frank repeated, blinking rapidly. He couldn’t tell if he was about to be strangled, raped, or straight up murdered. Gerard was neither happy nor angry—he just looked insane. 

Frank had a chance to mutter out a scream when Gerard grabbed him in another hug and knocked them both onto the kitchen floor. Frank’s head was cradled against Gerard’s chest, but his knees weren’t and they slammed into the floor so hard he could’ve sworn something had been dislocated and definitely severely bruised. 

“Baby!” Frank screamed, crying out in pain but only able to grab onto Gerard’s body to fight the pain. 

“Oh, Frank!” Gerard’s voice gave no signs of understanding or sympathy for the excruciating pain he’d caused. He was forcing them both to roll over and over across the floor until Frank’s body hit against the kitchen counter.

Frank just didn’t know what the fuck was happening anymore. He was dizzy, his legs hurt like hell, and his boyfriend was holding him so tightly that he couldn’t breathe.

“Baby, are you okay?” Frank wheezed, struggling against Gerard’s arms until he realized that just made him squeeze tighter.

“That’s just it, Frank!” Gerard called, finally, _finally_ letting go and sitting up. Frank just remained lying on the floor, staring at his boyfriend in shock while panting heavily to make up for lost air. “I _love_ you! I… I want to _marry_ you!”

And then Frank’s brain just stopped trying to make sense of it…

Gerard was staring at him like the statement was a marriage proposal in and of itself. He looked expectant and hopeful, but all Frank could do was stare and wonder if his kneecaps had been broken. 

“You’re my whole life,” Gerard said, panting and shaking the hair out of his face.

“Wh…What did you and the counselor talk about today?” Frank asked, slowly—very, very slowly—straightening himself up into a sitting position, his back against the cabinet doors. One of the handles was digging into his shoulder blade, but he didn’t bother to move to stop the dull ache.

“You,” Gerard said. “How much I love you. I—I really, really love you, Frank!” He said it like he’d never realized it before…

“I know,” Frank whispered. “I love you too…”

“That’s the thing!” Gerard screamed, smiling and reaching out to paw at Frank’s shoulder. For the first time, Frank was terrified of one of his hugs. Though Gerard seemed ecstatically, _violently_ happy, Frank was still afraid that that excitement was going to turn into somewhat forced sex.

No…Gerard would never _force_ him…he would just _make_ him.

“What’s going on?” Frank asked, looking around as if expecting the kitchen to dissolve away and for it all to just be a dream he’d fabricated while sitting on the couch—still waiting for Gerard to come home.

“I’m telling you I love you!” Gerard called, looking at Frank with all of the blissful happiness in the world. “I love you!”

“I love you,” Frank echoed. “I’m scared…”

“Why?” Gerard asked, his happiness turning into concern. 

It was real. It was _really_ happening. Gerard was worried, and he couldn’t figure out that Frank was scared because he was acting like he was insane. He couldn’t tell that he was acting like a lunatic.

“Gerard…you threw me on the table…and then you dropped me on the floor…and then you… _rolled me_ into our counter…” Frank stared at him, eyes becoming heavy as the emotional exhaustion overcame him. He couldn’t tell if this was another ploy—another shot at manipulation to get sex—or if Gerard was just fucking crazy happy.

“I…I was excited to see you,” Gerard said, looking at the table which had been shoved about two feet across the kitchen floor. “Sorry…Did I hurt you?” He scooted over towards Frank on the floor and put a hand on top of his head…

Just on his head… Like he was patting him like one of their dogs.

“Are you okay?” Frank asked. Gerard started grinning.

“Of course—I love you.” He opened his arms and waited for Frank to hug him, even though it took Frank over a minute to realize what he wanted him to do.

“Why are…you so happy to see me?” Frank asked. The threat of physical harm seemed to be going away, and his defenses dropped just a little.

“We talked about you and…the more I thought about you the more I just wanted to hug you, and…it was two hour appointment so I really, _really_ started to miss you.” Gerard hummed happily and burrowed down into Frank’s hug until eventually he was lying on the kitchen floor with his head in Frank’s lap. 

Gerard was being so happy, but Frank didn’t believe it… He didn’t _want_ to believe it. Gerard couldn’t go from being violent one week to overly affectionate the next, but that seemed to be what was going to happen.

“What were you saying about me?” Frank asked, wanting to know what he could possibly have done to deserve a hug so hard it landed them both on the floor…that could have been so great that Gerard mentioned _marriage._

Marriage? Who even taught Gerard about marriage? Frank didn’t think he’d ever heard Gerard say the word before…

“We talked about the Bad Night, and the day you took me to the dentist…and when we tried to have sex the first time and I couldn’t do it and how you stopped for me… Oh, we talked about _everything!_ ” Gerard made a strange, almost strangled noise of happiness and started hugging Frank around the waist again. “I just love you—I want to be with you forever so…” He laughed. “Well… yeah. Forever.”

“Okay,” Frank said softly, giving in and stroking Gerard’s hair. “So… It went well?”

“Really well—she said I didn’t even have to talk about the rape… I mean, she wants to discuss Adam, but that’s obvious. That’s what made me get all…all angry. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay—I know it hurt you. I know it still hurts.”

Gerard made a soft, pained noise and curled into a ball on the floor, head still in Frank’s lap. He reminded Frank of a small child, and he knew that it wouldn’t last. For the moment, Gerard was happy and innocent. He was determined to make the most of it.

“What do you say…we make dinner together tonight?”

“I’d like that,” Gerard said, slowly uncurling as he giggled and smiled. For a moment, he looked like someone who had never even seen pain.


	28. Chapter 28

_Chapter 28_

Gerard couldn’t even describe how he’d felt the night before his first appointment with his new counselor. Frank just didn’t seem to understand how hard it was to talk about—how hard it all was to cope with. Maybe forcing himself to forget it all had made it seem somehow less traumatic, but nothing could be farther from the truth.

The nightmares. The flashbacks. The visions and the voices.

Gerard had crawled out of bed while Frank was still sound asleep and crept into the living room where he could sob uncontrollably without fear of being overheard. He was terrified of having to meet with this new counselor. He was so afraid that she was going to force him to go back and relive those awful days when all he wanted was to talk about _now._

He didn’t want to remember—it wasn’t just mental images, it was flesh memories. He could feel his master inside his body. He could feel his smooth palms and the scruff of his beard. He knew what his master’s fingers felt like inside his body—even inside his mouth. He had it all memorized at he shuddered at every memory. He trembled—he cried. He buried his face in the sofa and sobbed alone.

Gerard didn’t want to drag Frank into it anymore. He’d shown Frank too much already. Why did he always feel the need to project all of his emotions on Frank? To show him vulnerability was one thing, but to make a scene in the parking lot outside of his work was another. Raping him on the kitchen counter was an awful idea. Why couldn’t he just control himself like a normal human being?

The anxiety gnawed away and Gerard’s bones, reducing him to something less than flesh and marrow. He felt like a sopping mass of buzzing nerves—he couldn’t stop shaking and jerking and crying. 

He was afraid—he was _angry._ He was embarrassed—he was bitter.

Everything was stuck in a vicious tug of war and he couldn’t calm himself back down. He wanted to be in Frank’s arms—he wanted to tear Frank’s wrists apart and watch him bleed.

He wanted to love him—he wanted to love him to death.

Everything. Back and forth, back and forth. It just wouldn’t _stop._ He literally felt as if his body was being ripped in half and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

He wanted to bash his head into the floor until his skull split open—he wanted to go kiss Frank awake and cry into his chest. He wanted to tear his hair out—he wanted to draw a picture. 

He wanted to write a song—he wanted to go drown himself in the kitchen sink. 

He wanted love—he wanted liquor.

Back and forth. Over and over. It all swirled around his mind until he was ready to scream to make it stop. He felt so helpless in its grasp. For the longest time, he couldn’t tell if he was breathing or if he was choking on his tongue.

Why didn’t Frank wake up and come rescue him? Couldn’t he tell he was drowning?

He wanted to cry—he wanted to scream. He just wanted it to be _over._

He didn’t want to see the counselor, but he wanted to keep Frank.

He wanted to keep Frank—he wanted Frank to go with him to the counselor.

He didn’t want to project his feelings on Frank anymore.

Why did Frank love him so much the second time they dated? Because Gerard hid everything from him. The bad dreams, he’d hidden them for so, so long. He’d get up, drink some water, and crawl back in bed wondering what spurred his brain to create such awful images.

He hid bad days at work from his boyfriend—lied about his old Art Industry boss propositioning him for sex… Lied about having sex with his old Art Industry boss behind Frank’s back to make sure he didn’t lose his job.

Lied about quitting his job because of the flashbacks and nightmares. Lied about getting fired because he refused to sleep with his boss.

If Frank knew who he really was, Gerard was sure he would leave. Why wouldn’t he?

Why did he even need to go to counseling? He knew what was wrong with his brain…

He didn’t know what was wrong with his brain.

Half an hour before the alarm would go off to wake Frank up, Gerard crawled back into bed and pretended that he’d been crying in his sleep and couldn’t remember the nightmare that spurred it.

Frank cooed, petted his hair, said he was sorry, gave him a kiss, and made him breakfast. 

Gerard was rewarded when he hid things… Frank loved him when he lied about who he was.

Frank didn’t love _him._

“Do you want me to drive you to the appointment, Sweetheart? I can tell you’re really nervous…”

Frank did love him…

Gerard just didn’t know what to do with himself and he felt like he was about to just _snap._

( ) ( ) ( )

“So…you listed on your form that you feel depressed,” the counselor said. Her voice was too soft. Her appearance was too gentle. Gerard didn’t want to talk to her. She looked like she wouldn’t be able to handle it if a spider crawled across the floor let alone hear horror stories of rape and torture. 

“Sometimes,” Gerard said, looking at the floor. He would _never_ feel comfortable with her. Never. Never. Never.

“Is there something specific you want to talk about? Such as relationship issues or help coping with stress?” She looked at him expectantly, but far too passively. He felt that if he told her he wanted to discuss poaching eggs she would say that was a good idea and let him lead their conversation on an irrelevant stroll.

“I don’t handle stress well,” Gerard mumbled. If he didn’t at least try, Frank was going to be disappointed. 

“Okay. Can you tell me a little more about that?” Gerard just didn’t answer. “Or, when you find yourself getting stressed, what do you usually do? Do you shut down, do you become angry…?”

“I…I just take it out on my boyfriend,” Gerard mumbled. “I take it out on Frank.”

“And how do you take it out on him? Like, are you yelling or, you know, hitting?”

“I-I don’t make a point to _hurt_ Frank,” Gerard said, realizing how he must look to this woman. “I have before… I don’t _mean_ to.”

“When you say that you don’t mean to—”

“I don’t _plan_ it. I don’t go to work and think of ways to hurt Frank when I get home… I just get home and I can’t take it and he’s there…and he’s the only one there. It’s such a _tiny_ apartment—I have nowhere to go. I used to have a studio I could draw in at our townhouse, but now we’re in each other’s faces all day and I just can’t handle it.”

“So what it sounds like is you need your own space in order to be able to let go of the stress you face at work and even at home with Frank.” 

Gerard shrugged and the counselor looked at him with disappointment.

“Has stress management always been an issue for you, Gerard?”

“No… I used to just hide it. I was good at hiding things, but…in such a small house…”

“You have no place to hide,” the counselor said gently.

“Yeah. A lot of the time I’m home by myself because Frank and I work different shifts, but it’s not the same as having my own space. Everything is shared—every room is _ours_ and I really…having something of my _own_ is…I really… To have my own things, I guess? To have…my own space or own _anything_ is really important to me?”

Gerard looked at her, wanting to explain that it was because he was owned that he was desperate to have both something of his own that _could_ be shared if he chose instead of having everything be a joint investment. He just didn’t want to let the conversation take that kind of a turn. He didn’t want to talk about that part of his life anymore. Even if it was relevant, he just wanted it to be over.

“To have a personal space to unwind is really important to a lot of people. It helps a person get away from stress, to kind of de-pressurize after a long day without having to affect anyone else in the home or the apartment. Without it, it can cause build ups of stress and other anxieties.”

“I’m thinking I might talk to him about moving to a bigger place. I know… I know that especially with me working again that we could afford it, but I think he _likes_ being able to know where I am in the apartment. There’s nowhere to hide.”

“I think that’s something you should definitely talk to Frank about. If a lot of your stress is coming from the lack of an environment which allows you to relax, you can tell him that your relationship would probably benefit from something as simple as a change of address.”

She tried asking Gerard about his and Frank’s relationship—starting with how they met. Gerard refused to tell her, and told her the story about meeting up in the store instead and acted like it was the first time he’d seen him. She fell for the whole meet-cute story and he was able to distract her with tales of how great Frank was.

For a while, he was getting angry—tired of talking about how great Frank was when Frank was really the cause of all of his problems. If Frank had just let him die—any of the times his life had been at risk—none of this would have happened…

He could’ve died a long time ago, and he would’ve been okay with it…

But then his mind just got hung up on the little things and it just…the pulling and pushing stopped. 

He remembered Frank that night in the auction house. His deer-in-headlights expression. His white t-shirt and blue jeans… His long hair and open lips… Their first hug—in front of his evil master. Gentle, gentle hug. Soft arms—nice smell.

Pretty Frank.

Beautiful Frank. His gentle, gentle, gentle, gentle voice.

Soft. Soft voice telling him to shhh and that it was all okay.

Buying him coffee and snacks…giving him a place to sleep all while saying in that gentle, gentle, gentle voice—shh, it’s okay. 

Gave him his own place to sleep.

Oh, Frank. Sweet Frank…

“Gerard, are you alright?” the counselor asked. But her voice sounded so far away.

So far from Frank. Beautiful, gentle, sweet, loving, darling Frank.

Everything Frank… 

Everything was fine. Everything was good…

Everything was…

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard moaned in extreme pain when he woke up in the middle of the night. His head was killing him, and his shoulders hurt like he’d spent the day carrying heavy boxes even though all he’d done was hug Frank and help him with dinner.

Well, trip him repeatedly while getting in the way when Frank tried to make dinner.

“Babe?” Gerard called, rolling over and nudging Frank’s back. 

“Stop—I’m sore.” Frank’s voice was bitter, but Gerard didn’t pay his tone any mind.

“I really was just happy to see you,” Gerard said, scooting closer and draping an arm over Frank’s shoulders. Frank had work in two hours, but their alarm was set to go off in thirty minutes so Gerard didn’t feel bad for waking him. 

“I think… I think you dislocated my knee…”

“Take the day off,” Gerard said, snuggling into Frank’s back.

“No… If it gets too bad I will come home though. Please don’t do that again…”

“I won’t,” Gerard whispered, feeling a little ashamed when he heard how bad Frank’s pain really was… This time, he really hadn’t meant to cause him any harm.

“So… What else did you and the therapist talk about besides me?”

“Well… We decided that having a bigger apartment would help with my stress. I used to have my office at the townhouse, remember? I could draw in my little room?”

“Yeah,” Frank whispered. “Well, with you working…that’s definitely a possibility.”

“You think so?” Gerard asked. 

“Yeah… Another townhouse, maybe.”

“What if…what if we got a _house_ house… Like in a nicer neighborhood.”

“Gerard’s that really expensive. We can’t afford that.”

“Maybe a duplex? Just…something of our own that’s not in a big building or part of a giant string of connected places. I don’t like sharing all my walls.”

“Well, I’ll get a newspaper after work and we can look at them later tonight.”

“Really?” Gerard asked, trying not to sound over-eager.

“Sure, Baby. If that’s what makes you happy.”

“What makes you happy?” Gerard asked, starting to feel a spark of panic set in. 

“Let’s not talk about this right now,” Frank said, sitting up and turning off the alarm before it could beep. “I have to go to work.”

“W-wait,” Gerard said, grabbing Frank’s hand as he tried to slide out of bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Frank mumbled.

“Frank…”

“It’s nothing.”

“What would make you happy?” Gerard pressed.

“Not getting thrown on a table, dropped on the floor, and rolled into a kitchen counter—my leg _hurts._ ”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard whispered. 

“It’s…it’s fine. I’m just tired—sorry. It’s fine.”

“Frank, what if we…just got separate apartments?” Gerard said, his voice low.

“What? I don’t—Gerard I don’t want you to _move out._ What’s wrong?”

“I just thought maybe…I don’t know. I’m hard to live with. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to get away from me.”

“Gerard, that’s not what I want,” Frank said, leaning over to kiss him gently. 

Gentle, gentle, gentle, gentle…

 _No._ Gerard was _not_ going to let that feeling overcome him again. He didn’t know what it was, he didn’t know where it came from, but he wasn’t letting it take over this time.

Not again…

“I want to be with you, okay?” Frank said, his voice so soft…

Gerard stared at his lips and leaned in for another kiss. Frank smiled against his mouth and nuzzled the top of his head. 

“I’m gonna take a shower, Sweetheart. Get some more sleep.”

“Okay,” Gerard said, letting go of Frank’s hand after securing another kiss. Once Frank left the room, Gerard nestled down in the bed sheet and smiled, hugging Frank’s pillow to his chest and pretending it was his lover. 

Gentle lover… Sweet lover… Frank. Lovely Frank…

Gerard really, really, _really_ loved him.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank was true to his word. He picked up a couple of newspapers on his way home from work and brought some extra food home for Gerard in case he was hungry. Though he didn’t want to leave his apartment, he understood that the small living compartment contributed to Gerard’s hostility. As an artist, he needed to be able to disappear from his own life. There had been times when Gerard had locked himself in his old office/studio for days at a time to work on a project—sometimes for work, other times just for pleasure.

There was no space for him like that in their apartment, and he was almost positive that Gerard would calm down if he could find at least a space to call his own. It was dangerous, but he was even starting to think that a new apartment would be all they needed to go back to the way things used to be. 

But deep down he knew that things would never be the way that they used to… Gerard was gone. His sweet Gerard was going crazy, and he was watching helplessly from the sidelines as he slipped further and further out of his mind…

His poor Gerard… Did _he_ even realize how far gone he was? If Frank didn’t spend his days off without Gerard home searching the house top to bottom for drugs, he would suspect he was back on cocaine. He was moody, he was anxious, he was ungodly powerful when he got mad…

Frank unlocked the apartment and found Gerard sitting on the floor playing fetch with their dogs. When Gerard saw him, he tossed the chew toy away into the small hallway and stood up stiffly from the ground.

“Hi, Baby,” he said, approaching Frank with open arms. 

Frank smiled and returned the embrace, kissing Gerard on the cheek before pulling away to put the newspapers into his hands. 

“I got the paper for us to look at new places,” Frank said. Gerard was staring at him—straight in the eyes—and smiling with all the innocence of a child. Frank didn’t know which Gerard was worse, the euphoric or the enraged… Either was better than the depression, but Frank felt that that was what his lover was hiding under those massive, lovesick gazes.

He stared at Frank like they were just dating again—like he hadn’t seen him before and was soaking in every detail of his face. 

“I hope we can find one,” Gerard said, leaning down to kiss him on the lips. The kiss was chaste and sweet—so unlike Gerard that Frank almost felt guilty for touching him. Gerard was only ever forceful or passionate—or disinterested. His kisses were rarely, _rarely_ so innocent…

Not since Frank first brought him home all those years ago. 

“I love you, Frankie,” Gerard said, pressing close to him and leaning his head down onto his shoulder. Frank would’ve thought he was propositioning sex if it weren’t for how calm and gentle his breathing was, and how passively he stood there—as if trying to just absorb Frank’s body into his own.

He was savoring the touches and Frank didn’t understand why. They weren’t going anywhere—Frank had given him no reasons to believe that their relationship was in danger of falling apart again, so there was no reason to be treated so…so lovingly, with so much adoration.

It was the stuff of second dates and desperation. The sort of affection bestowed on a person that he’d been so unfortunate as to have fallen in love with instead of just lust. Because lust could be treated with haste and risks could be taken, but love…true, deep, inescapable love had to be nurtured. It had to be treated with the utmost care so that the recipient could understand that the feelings were so much more than just physical—so that he could understand how important it all really was. Risks couldn’t be taken because if a mistake caused the relationship to end, then the one in love would surely die.

He would have to. To live without his _true love_ would be no life at all.

But Gerard already had his lover in his arms—why did he act like it was all going to slip through his fingers?

Frank managed to coerce Gerard into the kitchen and sat him down at the table. He slid him a cup of cheese and potato soup and watched as Gerard poured over the real estate listings in search of the perfect place. Frank circled a few places that were in their price range in neighborhoods that didn’t promise imminent death, but Gerard was stuck on the same listing for over ten minutes, starting to circle it but freezing every time his hand would start to move.

“What did you find?” Frank asked, keeping his tone gentle so Gerard wouldn’t get scared.

“A little house…It’s a little over budget but it say utilities included so that…”

“That helps. How much over budget?” Frank glanced over at the listing and found it reasonable enough. For a hundred dollars more, the utilities would be taken care of which eliminated another bill and the stress related to making payments. 

Frank knew as soon as he saw Gerard’s eyes scanning that listing that he wanted that house. No apartment, no townhouse, and no duplex was going to impress him. It had two bedrooms which meant space for an office and that was all Gerard really needed. 

“I’ll call about it tomorrow when I’m on my break,” Frank said. “And set up a time that maybe we can go see it.”

“It’d have a nice little yard for the dogs… It’s not fair to have them stuck in this apartment.”

“I know,” Frank said softly. “I’ll call and see if we can get it. It’s really not that expensive…”

Gerard started smiling at him again and Frank sighed softly. 

“You’re in a good mood today…”

“I just love you a lot,” Gerard said softly. “I want you to know I love you.”

“I do know you love me,” Frank said softly. “I’m not going anywhere—you know that right? That I’m not leaving you?”

“I…I know,” Gerard said, beginning to look doubtful.

“Really, Baby,” Frank said, meeting Gerard’s sad state. “I’m not going to leave…”

Gerard smiled and shrugged. 

“I’m tired tonight—I couldn’t sleep…”

“It’s okay,” Frank said. “I was thinking I might go to bed a little early.”

“How was your knee? At work…”

“I was fine,” Frank said. “It hurt a little bit, but I took some Advil. I’m okay.”

“I’m really sorry about that,” Gerard whispered. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt…”

“I know,” Frank said. “I’m just not young like I used to be.”

“I really do love you,” Gerard said, reaching across the table and laying his hand over Frank’s. 

Frank smiled at him softly and placed his free hand over Gerard’s. Gerard sighed softly and closed his eyes. He looked peaceful, like he was about to go to sleep…

“You’re tired,” Frank murmured. Gerard just hummed. “We should go get sleep…”

“Nn… I want to stay up with you. I don’t get to see you a lot,” Gerard said, pulling his hand away. 

“You’ll see me in the morning,” Frank said. “And then after work… Soon we’ll have our day off again.”

“I want more than one day a week together,” Gerard whispered. “Maybe they’ll let me move my schedule around at work…”

“You just got the job a few months ago—you don’t want to try to change schedules. It upsets people…”

“I know,” Gerard said quietly. “I really love you.”

“I love you too,” Frank said, smiling at Gerard who again looked like he was about to fall out of his seat from exhaustion. “Baby, you need sleep.”

Gerard hummed and slid out of his chair. He was unsteady on his feet and staggered back to their bedroom. Frank got up to follow him and watched with a smirk on his face as Gerard fell into their bed and curled into a little ball in the middle. 

Frank couldn’t decide if he looked childlike or sad…or both. Or if he just looked lonely.


	29. Chapter 29

_Chapter 29_

Seeing the little house Gerard had picked out for them in the paper for the first time was like love at first sight. The landlady was pet friendly and fawned over Frank’s pictures of the dogs. The landlady was, in fact, a lady which made Gerard’s tension levels drop. And the house was close to perfect. The water heater was in need of being replaced, but the landlady said she was in the process of getting a new one installed. There was an ant problem, but not a severe one, and there were no rats or mice or roaches—which was an improvement over many of the apartments Frank had seen in his life.

Gerard’s heart was immediately set on moving into the place and the landlady told them that they could have it for a month’s rent in advance. Gerard had tried paying her on the spot which just made the landlady laugh in his face, but they’d filled out paperwork, paid, and were in the process of moving in.

Lindsey and Ray had come to help, but Mikey was stuck at work. He’d called three times the morning of the move in to ask if Frank dropped a couch on his brother or if Gerard had dropped a couch on Frank.

Ray borrowed a friend’s truck to move the larger furniture which Frank had placed in storage when he’d moved into the tiny apartment, and all the commotion actually got Gerard excited instead of anxious. Of course there was _some_ anxiety, but whenever it looked like he was about to snap Lindsey would cart him off to a coffee shop or just a walk down the street to “explore the neighborhood.” 

“I’m going to have my studio here,” Gerard said, standing in the center of the small second bedroom of the apartment. 

“It’s going to be perfect—you’ve even got a view of the backyard so you can see the dogs playing outside,” Lindsey said, offering Gerard a reassuring smile. He was positively _glowing_ in the new space and Lindsey was more than impressed.

“The neighborhood is nice and everything,” Gerard whispered, looking like his heart was preparing to burst from happiness. “The neighbors are mostly elderly couples, and then down the right side of the streets goes off into the rich section of town and it’s not the bad section until _ten blocks_ the other way!”

“It’s going to be so good for you,” Lindsey said, opening her arms to give Gerard a hug. He grabbed her and squeezed tight, all of his happiness rushing into her. He was like the sun—warming everything. So different from what he used to be…

“I hope Frank likes it—I really want him to like it, too. Not just me.”

“He _loves_ it,” Lindsey said, breaking the hug. “He won’t stop talking about how nice the yard will be for your dogs—and the bedroom is so big compared to your last place.”

“My hospital room was bigger than our bedroom in our apartment,” Gerard mumbled. “We should help with the boxes.”

So the two went out to the pile of boxes that was ever-increasing outside of the house. Though someone was always outside guarding the pile, someone was always driving back and forth from either the apartment or the storage unit to the new house. The pile of boxes and furniture never stopped growing. 

All that was really set in place were the beds, and that was to keep their mattress from getting dirty. Bob had offered to babysit Bear and Pig so the dogs were out of the way, and other than a few broken items of glassware, everything was going smoothly. 

Gerard proved himself to be useful in moving things, but he got restless if had to go in the car to pick things up. Something about fitting boxes into cars scratched the surface of his anxiety, but he had no problem moving everything into the house. Frank focused on bringing the boxes and furniture, Gerard focused on taking it all inside.

At the moment, Ray was guarding the stockpile while Frank picked up more boxes. Once he got back, they would move in the dressers and couch, then Gerard would be left to guard the pile while Frank and Ray went to get more furniture.

“How long will it take to unpack all of this?” Gerard asked as he and Lindsey carried the boxes into the rooms listed on the boxes—kitchen, living room, bedroom, bedroom with a subtle, tiny winky face. 

“Probably the next couple of days. You’ll get the bedroom done, I’m sure. Then the kitchen. After that you just kind of unpack what you need when you need it until all the boxes disappear,” Lindsey said, eyeing the winky face box suspiciously as she set it on the floor beside the put-together bed.

“I’m really happy—Frank took tomorrow off work so we can unpack and cuddle and have a whole two days together!”

“You really miss him when you don’t see him during the week, don’t you?” Lindsey asked, smiling at him softly.

“Yeah… I should’ve taken the job at the diner when he offered it to me, but I really didn’t want to work in food service. All the customers would just… People get so _mean_ about food. At the record store, I just give them a refund or an exchange and they’re happy.”

“Food service is the worst… Maybe you could try to get your old job back. You told me before you worked making art for a company in the city.”

“I did illustrations… It was an okay job.”

“Maybe you could get one where you work at home,” Lindsey said. The two went back outside to collect more boxes. Ray was sitting on the porch steps drinking a bottle of Coke and ignoring them as he tried to alleviate his own stress from carrying all of the heavy things.

“I don’t… That’s not as common as you’d think. Bosses like to see you working so they know that _you’re the one_ who actually _did_ the work.”

Gerard seemed hesitant to talk about his old job, but Lindsey didn’t push it. She didn’t want to have Gerard panic while his lover was in no mental state to keep him calm. Frank was keeping his stress to himself so as to not tip Gerard over the edge, but if Gerard fell into hysterics, Frank would break.

“We’ve got most of the stuff in now… Do you want to start putting clothes away while we wait on Frank? You’ve got the closet and one of your dressers. Hangers?—Do you have the clothes hangers?”

“Um…” Gerard looked around and singled out a misshaped box. “Yeah—here’s some.” While the waited on Frank, they hung up his shirts and Gerard’s shirts on opposite sides of the almost spacious closet. 

“I think you and Frank are going to love it here,” Lindsey said softly. “It’s such a quiet place—you’ve got a few feet between your house and the neighbors’.”

“I know,” Gerard said, smiling proudly at being the one who found the house in the first place. “I just can’t wait to be all moved in…”

Once the shirts were hung, they moved on to Frank’s dresser. Gerard insisted on being the only one to touch Frank’s pants and boxers and Lindsey let him go. She sat down on the uncovered mattress and watched Gerard work, checking her phone every now and then to see the time. Frank would be back soon.

As soon as Gerard heard the car pull up, he ran out to greet Frank who smiled every time, but his smile was a little more feigned with each encounter. He was getting exhausted.

“Hey, Baby. You wanna take a break and get some lunch or something? I’m about to drop…” Frank kissed Gerard’s cheek and started helping him carry in boxes.

“I’m up for lunch,” Ray said as Frank walked past him. 

“That sounds good,” Gerard said, smiling at Frank as he set the box of DVDs down in the living room. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Frank said. He carried a box into the bedroom and thanked Gerard for hanging up his shirts. They shared another quick kiss before taking Ray and Lindsey to discuss where they should go for food.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank collapsed on their couch after Ray and Lindsey had finally gone. Everything was moved in, there was fast food for them on the coffee table, Gerard was sprawled out on the floor playing with the dogs… All was good.

Frank didn’t trust it.

“What do you say we go to bed early after dinner?” Frank asked. “I’m exhausted…”

“Okay,” Gerard said. “Me too—I’ll probably put some of the kitchen stuff away…and finish the bedroom before you go to sleep. I won’t be long after you.”

“Aren’t you tired?” Frank asked.

“Well…You worked a lot harder than me, Frank,” Gerard said. He sat up from the floor and looked at Frank sadly. “I’m sorry…I just got nervous carrying boxes down all of the stairs.”

“It’s fine. It’s over now so it’s in the past.” He offered Gerard a smile but his boyfriend remained worried. “We get to spend tomorrow together homemaking,” Frank said in an attempt to get Gerard to smile.

It worked almost too quickly. In an instant, Gerard was showing all of his little teeth and he was practically giggling with excitement. If there was ever a doubt in Frank’s mind that he was loved, the look on Gerard’s face would have banished it.

All of his devotion and elation were practically seeping out onto the floor. He looked happier than Frank had ever seen him.

A little change in environment could do all of this?

Frank did know that Gerard’s lifestyle used to be captivity in a modest mansion… Of course a small apartment was detrimental to him… Of course his happiness was directly proportionate to the size of his accommodations.

Frank couldn’t imagine his little Gerard being all cooped up in some fancy mansion though… He was too casual and laidback for that lifestyle. There was no way he would want something like that back, right?

He wasn’t going to try to shoot for mansions and nice cars, right? 

Because if a little house made him this happy, what was to stop him from running into the arms of some guy with a Sea Side estate? Emotional obligations? Their history together?

“Frank? Did I say something wrong?” Gerard asked, the sadness in his voice bringing Frank out of this thoughts.

“What?—No, no you’re fine. Sorry. I’m just tired.” 

Gerard didn’t look convinced. All of his elation had just disappeared in less than a minute. 

“I can just go to bed—I don’t have to put things away… I’m sorry.”

“No—It’s fine. If you want to put stuff away, go ahead. I’m just distracted.”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard repeated, looking down at the floor.

“You should eat your food—it’s getting cold,” Frank said gently. Gerard looked at the fast food bag on the coffee table and shook his head.

“Not…not hungry,” Gerard whispered. 

“Gerard…”

“I’ll go to bed,” Gerard said, as if he’d been ordered. Frank didn’t understand what happened. Had he missed something?

“What did I say?” Frank asked, staring at Gerard anxiously. “What?”

“I just… Well, I said I was really happy here and your face got so… You looked like you were upset. I’m sorry—you’re tired. I’m just being crazy.”

“I was spaced out,” Frank said. “I was thinking about…” He had to lie to bring his lover back. He had to… He couldn’t let Gerard know he was thinking about infidelity. “It was about the townhouse. I just… I worry about you.”

“Oh,” Gerard said, looking sad for a different reason—a better one. An easily managed one. Now he was remembered pain and that was easier to treat than fresh wounds. “He won’t come back, right?” Gerard asked. He was starting to cry and Frank wouldn’t let it happen.

“Never, Baby. You’re safe,” Frank said, going from the couch to sit on the floor by his boyfriend. “He’ll never find us now—we’re in this place. He’s got no way to know we moved here.”

“Do you believe that?” Gerard asked, curling into Frank’s chest like a child.

“Yes,” Frank said firmly, kissing the top of Gerard’s head. “He can’t hurt you again.”

“I still feel it sometimes at night,” Gerard whispered, burying his face in Frank’s neck. It was like he decided it was the safe time to expose his fears since Frank supposedly had the same concerns. 

“You know you can wake me up, right?” Frank said gently. “You can _always_ wake me up if something scares you. I want you to.”

“I don’t want to look that weak,” Gerard whispered.

“It’s not weakness, Sweetheart. I have nightmares about it, too. Like I’ll dream I’m stuck in the room watching and can’t help you, or that I come home and you’re dead… I always…sneak you awake for some reason to hold you afterwards. I usually just says it’s because you stole the blankets.”

“I just don’t want you to go,” Gerard said, looking down at the floor.

“Go? Gerard, I’m not leaving—look, we got this house all to ourselves. The farthest I’m going is the kitchen.”

Gerard hummed softly and snuggled against his boyfriend’s chest. 

“I love this house,” Gerard whispered.

“I like it, too,” Frank said. “I’m going to get to bring you surprise coffee when you’re in your studio again.”

Gerard practically squealed in excitement and it was as if the last conversation hadn’t happened.

“I’ll let you sit with me!” Gerard said. He used to forbid Frank to watch him work—now he just liked or had gotten used to the attention.

“I won’t hover—I’d make you mess up and you’d end up painting me instead.”

“You’re already painted,” Gerard murmured, looking at Frank’s inked hands.

“I want to get more tattoos—one of you maybe.”

“Not my face,” Gerard muttered. “I don’t want my face carved on your skin with a ne…n-needle.” Gerard shuddered and Frank couldn’t help but laugh before kissing his cheek.

“Maybe I’ll make you draw me something,” Frank said.

“I don’t have to watch you get it, do I?” Gerard asked cautiously. 

“No, Baby. I’d have you throwing up on me.” Frank smirked and kissed Gerard’s head and cheek over and over until he had Gerrard giggling like he had been before—like he was the happiest creature alive.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank woke up to Gerard bouncing up and down on the bed over top of him. Gerard was excited to start their morning—so apparently he had to resort to acting like one of their dogs to express himself.

“Hey—Hey, Baby. Okay—Okay! I’m up! I’m awake—stop! Stop… _Stop!_ ” Frank forced himself to laugh instead of yell so Gerard wouldn’t spontaneously collapse into tears and grabbed Gerard’s head into a kiss to keep him still.

“I made breakfast—I made breakfast in our new kitchen! I love this!” Gerard kept kissing him and then finally just leapt out of the bed and ran out of the room.

It took Frank a moment to gather himself and before he could get out of bed, Gerard was back and tugging on him—telling him to hurry and come to the kitchen, eat at the table.

As soon as Frank was sat at the table, Gerard was kissing him and serving him and kissing him again. Eventually, Frank was made to try to eat with Gerard sitting in his lap. 

Frank couldn’t shake the one thought from his head: Was this how he acted with his master?

“What do you want to do today?” Gerard asked, kissing Frank’s ear. If Gerard weren’t the one who suggested they avoid sex, he would’ve thought his lover was propositioning him.

“Relax,” Frank said gently. “Watch some movies with my boy…” They didn’t have the cable or internet hooked up yet in their home, but they had their TV and movies.

“I’d like that,” Gerard said, smiling like crazy. “In our house—we have a _house,_ Frankie!”

“Yes,” Frank said, kissing his boyfriend’s cheek. “We do.”

“All ours,” Gerard said, smiling and squirming in Frank’s lap.

“Yes.”

“Thank you for doing this for me.” Gerard whispered, grabbing Frank’s arms and wrapping them around himself tightly. 

“I’d do anything for you, Baby,” Frank said. “This was for me, too—That apartment was a little claustrophobic, even for me.”

“Do you love me?”

“Of course I love you,” Frank said, kissing Gerard softly. “I love you.”

“I love you more—I’m gonna make another pot of coffee.” Gerard flung himself out of Frank’s lap and hurried over to the kitchen counter. He was practically vibrating with excitement… Frank had never, _ever_ seen him so glad. Not even when he was going crazy.

“When is your next appointment?” Frank asked. Gerard saw his counselor bi-weekly, but Frank liked to keep tabs…

“This Thursday. We’re going to discuss my dad… Bleh.”

“Your dad?” Frank asked.

“Yeah… And probably you again. I like talking about you.” Gerard said it with a flirtatious tone.

“Oh? Why is that?” Frank asked, eating his breakfast and watching Gerard watch the coffee pot as it began to brew.

“I get to tell someone else how cool you are—it makes my day knowing everyone is jealous.”

“They’re jealous of me,” Frank said, smirking. “I’ve got the pretty one and the talented one…you’ve got a short guitar player who uses skin art to look tough.”

“I got the nice one,” Gerard said, looking at Frank with a feisty expression.

“You’re so hot,” Frank said. For a moment he was worried because Gerard looked stunned… Then he didn’t have a chance to react before he was being ambushed.

Gerard’s tongue was in his mouth and his hands were going under Frank’s boxers before he could even squeak in surprise. So much for taking a break from sex—but Frank wasn’t about to complain.

“I want to fuck in every room of this house before Monday,” Gerard said in between wet kisses and puffs of air.

“Okay,” Frank said, running his fingers through Gerard’s greasy hair and holding him still so he could suck on his tongue.

Gerard started moaning and began slowly pumping Frank’s rapidly growing erection.

They were supposed to be taking a break from sex—but Frank wasn’t going to say no to this.

“Which room first?” Frank asked.

“Bedroom,” Gerard panted, pulling away and sprinting back into their new, spacious bedroom. Frank took one last bite of breakfast before chasing after him, pouncing on his boyfriend who was about to get into some sort of seductive pose on the mattress.

Gerard wasn’t going to last long, and Frank knew that even before he got his hand around his boyfriend’s cock. He was already leaking precum and was writhing on the bed before Frank even got out the condoms and lube from their nightstand. 

Gerard just kept chanting for Frank to hurry, hurry, hurry—and Frank complied until he started to prep. He made sure his lover was ready no matter how pushy he got. He would force Gerard to cum early before he would risk hurting him.

Frank pulled out his fingers and slowly lined up, slicking himself with lube even though Gerard just kept saying “just do it, just do it.” Gerard’s back arched off the bed as soon as Frank pushed inside and Frank grabbed his mouth in another deep kiss.

Gerard ran his tongue along Frank’s slowly, moaning into his mouth and digging into his back with his nails. Even from the scratching Frank could tell his lover wasn’t going to last long. Something about the few week phase of abstinence and the movie to a new place reduced his boyfriend to a horny, uncontrollable mess. 

His body was extremely tense, even though his inhibitions had disappeared, and the tightness of Gerard’s body just helped Frank get closer to the edge. The pressure on his cock was almost unbearable, but Gerard just kept moaning and scratching and it reminded Frank so much of the way it used to be. 

Gerard used to always be like this—needy and wanting with no trauma on his mind, just lust and passion. 

Frank’s lips were already starting to become swollen from the harsh kisses, but he didn’t care. He gripped Gerard’s cock and pumped it rapidly, listening to Gerard’s moans go from deep to shrill—to uninhibited screams of pleasure. It was their own house—no one was going to hear through the walls and tell him to stop it or call the cops.

All at once, Gerard’s body began to spasm and he was cumming in hot streams over Frank’s hand and onto his chest. Frank kissed him and tried to get him to scratch a little more gently with his nails, but words were lost on Gerard. He’d become a mess of twitching nerves and broken moans.

“T-Too much,” Gerard started panting when Frank tried to finish. His eyes went bleary as his body succumbed to the hyper-sensitivity, but he kept twitching and jerking.

“Almost,” Frank moaned, trying to kiss him. Gerard turned his face away and shook his head.

“Too much, please? Handjob—I’ll give you a handjob.” Gerard was starting to shake by the time Frank pulled out with a whimper. He was close, but if Gerard said stop he had to listen. Anal or handjob didn’t really matter when it was Gerard. “Okay,” Gerard said, sitting up and pulling the condom off quickly.

Frank’s moans turned into a scream of surprise when Gerard sucked him into his mouth all at once. Gerard began bobbing his head as quickly as he could, running his tongue along the base and flicking it over the tip when he’d pull back.

Frank tangled his fingers in Gerard’s hair and panted, watching as Gerard’s mouth stretched around his cock. A line of drool was running down his chin and Frank stared at it, focusing on the heat and the suction and the feeling of his perfect, talented tongue.

When Frank let go, Gerard pulled away, causing the sticky ropes of cum to splatter across his face and nose instead of filling his mouth. For a moment, Frank thought it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen—Gerard staring at him with his lidded eyes and his lips swollen and shiny—but then he was afraid it would make Gerard sad.

He reached out with the blanket on their bed to wipe the fluid off Gerard’s face only to have his boyfriend turn away and then shake his head like a dog—successfully getting everything…everywhere. Including sending a drop into Frank’s own mouth.

“Shower with me,” Gerard panted, trying to crawl out of the bed on boneless legs. He fell onto the floor with a loud bang and Frank hurried to get to his side. Gerard whimpered, but got up without complaint before hurrying into their new bathroom. 

As soon as they were both under the stream of the water and Gerard had rinsed off his face, Gerard had his hands on Frank’s cheeks and was forcing their lips together again. He kept the kiss passionate, as if it was the last time Frank would ever see him. Every now and then, Gerard’s hands would slide down to Frank’s hips or lower to grab at the curve of his ass—they’d just finished and it was as if he was trying to go again.

Frank had to break them apart, but under the pretenses of washing his boyfriend’s hair. Gerard finally calmed himself down to accept non-sexual touch, but still tried to get Frank to go for another round. Frank chanced a glance downward and saw that his boyfriend was already half hard once again.

Gerard was in his mid-twenties…he shouldn’t be able to have it up again within half an hour.

“Again?” Gerard asked, looking desperate when Frank moved to turn off the water of their shower. He looked like his heart was about to burst, and Frank knew better than to reject him when he got seriously desperate. It usually ended bad…

“Sure, Baby,” Frank said, looking at his boyfriend seductively before going down to his knees in the shower. Gerard gasped in surprise and then just leaned back against the shower wall. 

Frank stroked him softly and then ran his tongue over the tip. The warm shower water kept splashing into his mouth, and the smell of the body wash coming off of Gerard was almost overpowering on the moist air.

Gerard let out another euphoric scream when Frank finally deep throated him. He jerked his hips forward, making Frank gag. He stammered an apology that sounded forced when overwrought with a moan, but Frank didn’t care.

_He_ was the one who’d gotten Gerard to this point. Gerard was pleading for his attention and was begging for seconds from him—not anyone else. 

When Gerard collapsed onto his knees in the shower, it was because of Frank. He was practically crying from pleasure because of Frank. 

In those few moments between sucking and swallowing and supporting, there were no thoughts of masters or rapists or bad dreams. Gerard was just in ecstasy and if Frank fulfilled his needs, he wouldn’t even need to think of Marcus or any other man.

“Again?” Gerard breathed, completely worn out despite his plea. He was lying on the floor of the tub, the shower turned off and droplets beading and rolling off his skin. Frank was already out of the tub and in his towel.

“Are you trying to do it in every room today?” Frank asked, smiling and keeping his tone gentle so Gerard would know he was just playing around.

“Maybe,” Gerard said, nodding and then letting his head rest against the floor of the shower.

“Come on—we can go cuddle in bed if you dry off.”

“Come cuddle here,” Gerard said, his eyes closed as if he was about to fall asleep.

“Gerard…I’m going to draw on you if you fall asleep in the tub.”

It took ten minutes to get him out of the bath and into the bed, but once he was there he was trying to rub at Frank’s hips to get him excited again. No matter how hard he tried, it wasn’t going to work…

“What’s up with you today?” Frank asked.

“Want you,” Gerard whispered. His eyes were closed and he was preparing to take a nap despite the fresh pot of coffee waiting for him in the kitchen.

“You had me,” Frank said.

“All day.”

“I’d die,” Frank said, laughing softly.

“I could go again,” Gerard breathed. Frank bet he could—if he could keep his eyes open.

“Maybe tonight.”

“Couch,” Gerard said, nodding his head against the pillow, eyes still closed.

Yes. In that moment, everything was like it used to be.


	30. Chapter 30

_Chapter 30_

Gerard sighed and looked over the across the store at the front counter. Bob was working with him again tonight and he liked that. With Bob, he kind of knew that if someone broke in they wouldn’t hold the place up. Bob was the only scary-looking guy that Gerard actually wasn’t afraid of.

“It’s slow!” Gerard called. He and Bob were the only two in the store and had been since Billy left two hours before.

“Yeah… We’ll be closing up soon so at least we’ve got that to look forward to.”

“Yeah…” Gerard walked to the front of the store and stood beside Bob at the counter.

“So how’s the new house?”

“It’s good,” Gerard said, smiling. “Frank wants to have a house party next week sometime.”

“How about next Wednesday night? That’s the only night I don’t work.”

“Me too!” Gerard said, giggling even though his laughing usually made Bob look at him like he was deranged. “And…Frank too.”

“Are you inviting Ray?” Bob asked.

“Of course. We were planning for Wednesday, actually. He works, but only until nine. Mikey might… _might_ come.”

“That should be fun. Do you see him a lot?”

“Not really… We disagree about Frank so it’s always a little awkward.”

“He’ll get over it,” Bob said. 

“I know…” Gerard looked around the store, sighing every now and then in boredom until it was time to close up. “Is there a pharmacy or anything around here?”

“I think so,” Bob said. “A few blocks that way and around the corner. It’s probably closed now though.”

“Oh, you’re right,” Gerard said, sighing in annoyance.

“What do you need to pick up?” Bob asked.

“Oh… Um, you know. Just some things.”

“You’re really weird,” Bob said after a brief pause. He shook his head and began counting the money in the drawer.

“What?” Gerard said, laughing softly to hide his embarrassment. “A guy’s gotta…you know.”

“There’s a sex store four blocks west of here, you know. If you _really_ gotta, you know,” Bob said, snorting with laughter.

“What?” Gerard asked, cringing. “That sounds disgusting.”

“It sells what you want.”

“And a bunch of stuff I don’t—ew.”

“Good to know,” Bob said sarcastically. “Why don’t you just go to Wal-Mart?”

“It’s out of the way,” Gerard said. He was sort of bummed out. There was a romantic evening planned, but Frank asked him to pick up more condoms before work. He forgot to pick them up and now it was past ten o’clock and he didn’t feel like driving thirty minutes out of his way to pick some up.

But the sex though… 

“You said to the west?” Gerard asked. 

“Yeah—that’s like to the left of here. Down about six blocks on the right. Open twenty-four hours, you know?”

“Thanks,” Gerard said, groaning. “I don’t want to go in there…”

“Then go to Wal-Mart.”

“I don’t wanna drive thirty minutes to Wal-Mart,” Gerard mumbled. “And I’m not buying gas station condoms…”

“I used to poke holes in those when I was a kid. It was funny.”

“That’s sick!” Gerard called. 

“Yeah, I stopped once I figured out why people actually used them.” Bob laughed as if risking the health of others was funny, and Gerard just shook his head.

“Do you think sex shop condoms are safe?”

“Hell yeah. They watch those places like crazy—cameras everywhere.”

“Go in there a lot?” Gerard asked, smirking as Bob locked the money from the register away in the safe in the stock room.

“What can I say? I had a kinky ex-girlfriend.”

“So…to the left of here?”

“Yeah.” 

“Okay.” Gerard continued asking Bob random, fragmented questions about the directions hoping he could coerce Bob into going to get them for him, but never made it that far. Bob locked up the store, patted Gerard on the shoulder, and said goodnight. Got in his truck and drove off, leaving Gerard by his own car in the parking lot. 

With a groan of reluctance, Gerard drove in the direction of the store and pulled into the parking lot of the “Black Box Market” which had an Open 24/7 neon sign in the blackened from window. There was one other car out front, which Gerard assumed belonged to the employee inside, and he tried to uncover the cause of his anxiety.

It was worse buying condom at the pharmacy because the little display was _always_ right next to the pharmacy window where the pharmacists stood. It always felt like they were looking down on him and scrutinizing him as he bought them. It was a little better in Wal-Mart, but he had a feeling that buying condoms in a sex shop was probably the most normal thing in the world. The employees probably wouldn’t give him a second glance since condoms were the least awkward thing to buy there… 

Right?

Taking a deep breath, Gerard got out of the car and hurried into the black door of the shop. There were paper signs posted everywhere on the black glass that said “no photography” and “must be 18 to enter” and “have ID ready.” So Gerard got out his wallet and stepped through the door, trying not to look traumatized as he stepped inside. 

The first thing that struck him was the overpowering smell of rubber and perfume, then he was face to face with an scantily clad mannequin which pointed to the checkout counter. A middle-aged female employee kept a sour expression as she accepted his ID. She glanced at him, then down at the photo, then handed the license back without a word. Somehow, her silence made it all less awkward.

Gerard tried not to look at the mannequins that stood in random places around the store, and certainly tried to keep his eyes off of the racks of porn DVDs and magazines to his right. He spotted a plastic display of condom brands and approached it quickly, feeling his cheeks burned as he thought of how odd he had to look standing in the center of an almost empty sex shop. 

Shouldn’t he be here with Frank? Couples would look in love and experimental. On his own he just looked like a pervert.

Gerard stared at the different colored boxes of condoms while feeling the worker’s eyes digging into his back. He glanced over his shoulder only to see that she had her back to him and was rearranging a glass pipe display. 

So maybe it wasn’t as bad as it seemed… No one was judging him here. He was buying condoms. He was being _normal._ He had to remind himself of that repeatedly. It was _normal_ to be here. Not bad.

Gerard looked over the boxes, looking for their normal brand but he couldn’t find it. There were plastic jugs on top of the shelf that had individually wrapped flavored and colored condoms in them, but the sight made Gerard shudder and he looked back down at the five and twelve-pack boxes. There were “ribbed” condoms and “grooved” condoms, and condoms with descriptions that Gerard couldn’t even imagine. He had to go to the other side of the shelf to find the normal ones, and then there still wasn’t his brand…

Maybe he was _too_ normal to be here…

Gerard grabbed a box of “skin thin” condoms and looked over his right shoulder at a shelf of lubricants and shaving aids on the wall behind him.

He and Frank were running low in their supply, so he may as well buy more while he was in the shop, right? And buying more than just one thing would make him more normal, right?

Honestly! Buying condoms in a store for sex should _not_ be making his heart beat so fast! He felt like he was about to faint and he couldn’t even figure out why. It was just a sex store—he’d had sex before. It was nothing to buy nervous about.

Gerard forced himself to take a deep breath and he looked over the bottles of lubricant in almost awe. The prices were fucking _ridiculous._

“Can I help you with something?” 

Gerard jumped when the clerk appeared beside him. He almost ended up on the floor, and the lady just started laughing at him.

“Don’t come in here a lot, do ya?” She asked before laughing another husky, dark laugh.

“Um…”

“This one’s actually on sale,” the woman said, pointing to a small bottle that would probably last him and Frank two weeks tops at the rate they were going… “All of this brand. But for a little bit more you can get this one.” She grabbed a bottle of “ice and fire” lube that she flashed before him. “People tell me it’s the best one. It’s not too over the top—at least that’s what people tell me. I don’t really know. Some brands like _this one,_ ” she grabbed up yet another bottle, “actually make some people uncomfortable because it burns _too intensely._ ”

“Oh,” Gerard said, staring at the bottle and shuddering involuntarily. 

“If you’re just looking for your basic lubricant, our house brand isn’t bad. It’s cheaper, a little watered down but it gets the job done.” She set the two bottles she had back down and returned to the counter as if her mini recommendations hadn’t happened.

Gerard looked over the bottles and grabbed the ice and fire brand, wondering if Frank would protest to it and wondering if it made it feel any better… He really didn’t have a clue about any of this…

Gerard decided to take a risk and chose to buy the more…playful lubricant and turned back towards the counter. He wondered if he needed anything else and looked to his right at the rows and shelves of unneeded lingerie and then…toys.

Suddenly, all of his anxiety immediately made sense to him. His eyes were locked on an unbelievably large dildo and he began shaking. All at once, he became almost hyperaware of all the toys and devices around him. Beside the condoms were cockrings. Beside the lube were anal beads and plugs.

Master liked toys, but Trainer…

Trainer…

Trainer was obsessed with them. Trainer couldn’t fuck him himself, but he could make the toys do it. And so many horrible, horrible things. Plugs that were too large, dildos that were too long, vibrators left in his body until the batteries died and he was screaming from the feel of it…

Gerard felt like he was about to be sick. He stumbled over to the checkout counter, but couldn’t take his eyes off of the devices of torture that were displayed beautifully on the walls all around him. He tried looking over toward the DVDs in hopes that seeing pictures instead of weapons would soothe him, but the wall directly behind the aisles of DVDs and magazines was covered in whips and blindfolds. Gerard spotted cuffs and paddles and almost threw up onto the counter. 

Fortunately, the woman didn’t see him gag. She handed him his change, told him about a sale on Saturday, and placed his bag on the side of the counter closest to the door. 

Gerard hurriedly grabbed the bag and disappeared out the door, shaking and starting to go numb. He got into his car and tossed the little black bag into the passenger seat.

He was helpless against the flood of images that hit him. Being tied down to the cold, steel table in his trainer’s basement. Seeing the toys all being pulled from the duffle bag and lined up on the counter beside his table. Each day a slow, horrible process.

No amount of screaming made it stop. No amount of silence, either. Or tears, or pleas… 

Torture. Toys were torture. He’d been in a store of torture.

What if his trainer bought his toys there? What if that same clerk knew his trainer by name? What if he’d gone in there and his trainer showed up? What would he have done then? He’d be back! He’d be taken again!

Starting to cry, Gerard started his car and started driving home, going too quickly but remembering to sometimes stop at the lights. He was horrified—suddenly _sure_ that his trainer had been there and saw him. 

When Gerard pulled into the driveway of his house, he had to sit in the car and cry for over half an hour before he could even bring himself to pick up the bag in the passenger seat. 

He didn’t want to worry Frank, but he was too afraid to hide it. 

Gerard unlocked the front door and hurriedly dropped the bag onto the floor in order to get away from it and ran to the kitchen where he could hear Frank washing dishes. He got his arms around his boyfriend’s waist before Frank could even call out a word of greeting and started sobbing into his shoulder.

Frank immediately froze in his arms, and Gerard started squeezing him tighter. He wanted to be able to say that he wasn’t hurt, but he couldn’t stop crying. One bad memory turned into hundreds of others. He’d been held by that awful man for three months, but those ninety days felt like years of horror. 

“Baby, what happened?” Frank asked in a gentle, gentle tone. He reached out to turn off the sink and turned around in Gerard’s arms.

Gerard stared at him and cried. He tried to stop the tears, but he couldn’t. When he tried to stop to breathe, he just choked. When he tried to speak, he screamed.

“Who hurt you?” Frank asked, tone firm but still so loving.

Frank loved him, Gerard had to remind himself. There was no pain here. He was safe here.

Gerard let Frank lead him to the couch where he crawled into his boyfriend’s lap to lessen the space between their bodies. He just wanted held. He wanted to be safe and to _feel_ safe.

“Gerard, who hurt you? You can tell me.” Frank started rubbing Gerard’s back and Gerard leaned into the touch.

“No one,” he cried, kissing Frank’s cheek and hoping his boyfriend would return the gesture.

“What happened?” Frank asked, stroking Gerard’s hair and nuzzling the side of his head. “Tell me. It’s okay.”

Gerard moaned in agony and curled against Frank’s body, shaking and trying so hard to push the memories back. Frank had heard all about the horrors before, but the pain didn’t stop when old wounds were cut open. 

“Gerard, Sweetheart—please. _Please_ tell me what’s wrong. Don’t cry. You’re safe.”

Gerard sobbed and curled down into Frank’s arms, reminding himself that they were warm and gentle and not cold, hard steel. Not chains. Not rope. Just Frank. Just safety personified.

That’s what Frank was, really. Frank was safety. Frank was warmth.

“I love you,” Gerard cried, almost screaming when he realized he made it sound like he was cheating. Why would he come home crying with no wounds? Because he felt guilty for having an affair.

“What’s wrong?” Frank pleaded. “Please, Gerard? Please, what happened?”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard cried, kissing Frank’s cheek again and holding onto him tighter. 

“What? What’s that bag on the floor? Where were you?”

“I-I went to a store,” Gerard sobbed. 

“A store? For our…for the condoms?—Did someone say something to you? Did you get in a fight?”

“No,” Gerard cried, wailing and pressing into Frank’s chest. He just wished Frank understood so he didn’t have to say it. Saying meant remembering—remembering more meant reliving more pain.

“What’s in the bag?” Frank asked.

“The stuff you wanted me to get,” Gerard cried.

“Okay, but where did you get it? What happened?” Frank asked, keeping so calm. Gerard loved him so much. 

Gerard tried to let himself be soothed by Frank’s touches and his gentle voice, but he just couldn’t stop the flood of images. He could practically feel his trainer breathing down his neck and laughing in his ear.

_Nobody gives a shit about you, cum-whore. You’re nothing but a worthless crack head. No one loves you. Who would love you!_

Gerard screamed and dug his nails into Frank’s shoulders, hoping to get closer even though the only way to get closer was to have Frank inside of him and that just couldn’t happen. He’d _ruined_ their romantic night.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard cried, pawing at Frank desperately and trying to relax despite his fear. It was impossible.

“Gerard, just tell me what happened. What store did you go in?”

“The—the sex store, I’m sorry,” Gerard cried. 

“Baby, I don’t care that you went in there—that’s fine. You don’t need to cry.”

“It’s not the store,” Gerard sobbed.

“Then what?” Frank asked, his tone staying soft. After all the years of caring for him and babying him when he broke, Frank didn’t let the irritation show in his voice. 

“I saw th-the _things_ there. T-Trainer had things like that—I’m scared, I’m sorry,” Gerard cried, burying his face in Frank’s shoulder and sobbing. 

Still, he could hear his trainer standing beside him, mocking him. Torturing him. Telling him he deserved rape and didn’t deserve Frank. Telling him rape wasn’t real because he was a whore and whores got fucked. It was his job to be fucked—all he was good for. All he deserved.

“Frank!” Gerard cried when his lover made no response. He crawled further onto Frank’s body and dug his nails into his back.

“It’s okay—There’s nothing here that will hurt you, Baby. You know we don’t have those things here—no one’s going to hurt you with anything.”

Gerard didn’t know how to express that he wasn’t afraid of Frank using them, but that he was haunted by them. Terrified of memories of pain. So much pain.

He just cried in Frank’s arms and tried to feel reassured by the comfort. He tried thinking about Frank while images of horribly large dildos and plugs flashed in his mind. 

It was a joke to some people, but to really feel terrified of the objects of other people’s pleasure and humor was awful. It was degrading. It was no different than fearing something as common as a pane of glass. No one understood…

No one.

“Baby, it’s okay. Look—I unpacked more of our stuff. Look, Sweetheart. See? I hung up your old paintings.”

Gerard forced himself to open his eyes and look across the living room at the space on the wall above the television. He saw the paintings, but wasn’t soothed. He tried to hide in the safety of the house, but it was still too fresh.

“Talk about it, Sweetheart,” Frank whispered when Gerard just kept crying. “It’ll make it stop. You can’t fight it. Tell me.” He sounded so sad and resigned. Gerard pitied him. He was _sorry_ he had to drag Frank into this…

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank didn’t even let his mind go there when Gerard fell against him sobbing. He didn’t let himself get caught up in thoughts of “we were supposed to have a good night” or “of course he was going to break again.” He just did his job and proved his love for his injured boyfriend,

When Gerard came home already weeping—already an hour late—Frank had thought for sure that someone had gotten to him. He was ready to pick up the pieces of another rape, and ready to kill someone for hurting his sweet lover. Ready to completely renounce any belief he had in a God because if some deity that controlled the forces of the world got the broken sex slave raped _again,_ it was no divine power Frank felt comfortable worshiping.

But then when Gerard just kept apologizing, Frank didn’t know what to think. For a second he’d thought he’d cheated—or had run into Marcus again—but then Gerard confessed and just fell into pieces.

There was no way the pain he was expressing could be faked. Gerard was in utter agony and Frank was determined to stop it.

He made himself coax details out of the man in his lap, and let his shirt become damp from the tears. 

Every now and then he would kiss Gerard’s cheek or stroke his hair, but after the memories started pouring out of Gerard’s mouth the touches just seemed to cause pain. After a simple kiss made Gerard scream, Frank quit trying to touch him and just let Gerard cling and cry and tell his awful stories.

“A-and he-he, _Frank!_ ” Gerard was barely able to describe half of a memory before he would cry for his boyfriend and hold him tighter. “Why did they do this to me?”

Gerard covered his mouth with his hand and pressed his forehead into Frank’s collar bone and sobbed. Devastated by his own pain and trembling in fear of monsters that lived in his head. He was slipping, and Frank didn’t know how to stop it. If he asked Gerard to stop talking about it, he would just hold back until he burst. 

He would turn his sorrow back into rage and the cycle would go on. The cycle would just keep going and Frank didn’t want assaulted in their new house, too. 

“It’s okay,” Frank whispered. “It’s all over now, okay?”

“I know,” Gerard cried, voice cracking. He’d sobbed so hard that his throat was wrecked, and his face was so raw from the tears that it looked like he’d been burned, but to Frank he was still beautiful. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Frank whispered, chancing another kiss to Gerard’s puffy cheek. 

Gerard cried out and turned away from him.

“I-It _was_ my fault! _I_ did the drugs! It was _me!_ ”

“Sweetheart—”

“They _made_ me do it,” Gerard cried, pawing at Frank’s shoulders before wrapping his arms around his neck again and sobbing into his shoulder. Frank sat still and let him cry. “I did the drugs… I went to that house—he took me away.” Gerard shifted around in Frank’s lap until Frank finally wrapped his arms around his shaking body in an embrace. 

“He can’t have you now,” Frank whispered.

“When I was a kid, Frank—when I was a kid my dad _hated_ me. He hated me so much…”

“No,” Frank cooed, trying to gently rub Gerard’s back without startling him.

“Yes he did! Frank, he was so mean to me… He never had time for me, he…” Gerard finally unhooked his nails from Frank’s body and leaned back, as if he were calming himself down. “He left me alone a lot and… Mom and Dad liked Mikey—they liked him. I was just the weird one.”

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart,” Frank said, reaching out to stroke Gerard’s cheek when Gerard finally put a bit of space between them.

Gerard flinched like he’d been slapped, but eventually leaned into the touch. He met Frank’s gaze pitifully and sobbed before turning away from the hand stroking his cheek to press his forehead into Frank’s chest yet again.

“I started drugs after he started yelling at me,” Gerard wept. “I was failing my History class, I couldn’t focus on anything. He just kept yelling and yelling…”

“I’m sorry,” Frank whispered.

“I just… I had nowhere to go, you know? I was so lonely. I didn’t have friends! People hate me—I’m fucking weird.” Gerard would’ve sound like he was delving into self-pity, but his broken and shrill voice just served to prove how much damage had been done to him in those eight years of captivity. What he said, be believed. He didn’t say it for attention, he said it so Frank would understand.

“I love you, even if you’re weird sometimes,” Frank said. Telling him he wasn’t weird wouldn’t work. It was a flat-out lie anyway. Gerard was strange, but he was his own person. He was an artist and a genius… He was just bad at human interaction, and why wouldn’t he be?

“I don’t want to die,” Gerard cried suddenly, falling away from Frank and curling up on the far side of the couch. 

“Baby…”

“I don’t want to—I just… I just saw those _things_ and it came back! I don’t want to have the nightmares! I don’t want to go back to that place!”

“Stay here,” Frank said, scooting closer to Gerard and reaching out to rub his shoulder. “It’s okay—look. Look at our house. We’ve got such a nice little house—you picked it out. Sweetheart, did you see I hung up your paintings?”

“Y-yeah,” Gerard stammered, looking up at the painting by the TV. Frank kept petting his hair until Gerard finally stopped sobbed.

“You’re going to stay here. If you start slipping, you just look around. Look at _our_ house. Isn’t it nice? Don’t you like it?”

“I love it,” Gerard said, biting his bottom lip as his eyes became once again bleary. “I love you…”

“I love you, too. Do you want me to get you a blanket? You’re shaking really hard, Sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard cried, rolling over to press his face into the back of the couch. He tried to curl himself up tightly enough to only fit on one cushion, but seemed devastated that he couldn’t make himself appear as small as he felt.

“I’m going to get you a blanket,” Frank said gently as he stood up from the couch. As soon as he was out of sight of the couch, Gerard started screeching—like an infant that couldn’t imagine a world outside his line of vision. 

Frank hurried to get a spare blanket out of their closet and hurried back, draping it over Gerard’s curled body and stroking his hair.

“Hey—Hey, don’t cry,” Frank said gently. He was glad they didn’t share walls with neighbors anymore. The cops would’ve been called long ago… “I just wanted you to be more comfortable. You’re shaking.”

“I’m sorry I went there,” Gerard cried.

“It’s okay. It’s over. You’re home—and…and we’ve got condoms for when we need them too. You did good.”

“I-I can’t tonight,” Gerard cried.

“Me either,” Frank whispered.

“I’m so sorry—I’ve ruined your life. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

“Gerard, you _saved_ my life. I’d have nothing without you. You’re my entire life—I _want_ it to be that way.”

“I just feel so useless—half the time I can’t even work…”

“I don’t care about that,” Frank said, rubbing Gerard’s shoulder firmly. “All I care about is taking care of you and showing you how much I love you.”

“Frank?” Gerard whimpered.

“Yeah, Sweetheart?” 

“Say…say nice things.” Gerard shifted his head to look up at Frank from the couch cushions. Frank offered him a gentle smile and moved to stroke Gerard’s hair.

“Well…” Frank knew better than to say a single word about how pretty or attractive he was. Those were the only compliments his torturers ever gave. “I think that you’re one of the smartest people I know. You can figure out the answer to anything… And you’re really talented.”

“Really?” Gerard asked, looking up at Frank with large, watery eyes.

“Definitely,” Frank said with a soft hum. “And your artwork is so great… And you write _beautiful_ things… Sometimes you make weird outfits, but they always look good on you because you’re able to pull it off.”

Gerard let out a tearful giggle and buried his face in the cushions again. 

“And you work really hard, and you’re _so_ strong. You’re so tough, Sweetheart.”

“Do you think so?” Gerard asked, peering out again from the cushion. He didn’t look tough when he was in pieces and covered in tears, but he was still alive—despite his best efforts to die, he was living. And he was actually living his life instead of living in fear like Marcus.

“I really think so,” Frank said. “Gerard, I love you more than anything.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess…”

“I love you anyway,” Frank said, locking eyes with his boyfriend who slowly started sitting up.

“Will you stay home with me tomorrow?” Gerard asked.

Frank sighed and looked down at the floor. He couldn’t take any more time off work. Not even an hour, his boss had said. Not even an _hour_ for the next two months.

“I can’t,” Frank said softly. “My boss is…because of the move.”

Gerard looked heartbroken and Frank felt like he himself might shatter when Gerard bowed his head and wept again.

“I can’t be alone,” he whimpered. “Please? I-I _can’t._ Th-the nightmares! I-I’ll see him in the hallways if you’re not here! Frank!”

“I… I can’t, Baby. Maybe you can call Lindsey or Mikey—Ray? What about Bob?”

“No, I… I need you,” Gerard wept, grabbing Frank’s wrists and squeezing. He wasn’t trying to hurt, he was just clinging for dear life.

“I can’t even take you to the diner like this, Sweetheart,” Frank said, feeling horrible. He took Gerard in to make him feel comforted. He hated turning him away like this…even if it was just for a few hours.

“I-I should let you go to bed,” Gerard cried, pulling his hands away and lowering his head even further.

“If I go to bed, you’re coming with me. I want to be there to help when the nightmares come,” Frank whispered. There was no point in saying “if” anymore. The nightmares would come. They’d be there for weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, we're not facing another full-blown relapse. I've got more tricks up my sleeve than that! You'd hate to have me be predictable, wouldn't you?


	31. Chapter 31

_Chapter 31_

The man had him down on all fours, beating him repeatedly on the back of the head even though Gerard had stopped screaming and stopped fighting. He was being good—he was _trying_ to be good.

Over and over the broken off leg of the wooden chair came down on his head. Finally, the wood splintered against his skull, spattering more hot blood.

Gerard let out a low whimper when the shattered pieces of wood were tossed across the room. He knew there was more to come… He couldn’t get away with the disobedience that easily.

Gerard’s little whimper turned to a scream as the man fisted his hand in Gerard’s hair and pulled him up into a sitting position on his knees. The man came around and made Gerard stare up at his face.

He had on his dark sunglasses, but Gerard could still feel the hatred and intensity in the man’s eyes as he stared down at the worthless filth at his feet.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard whispered, crying softly as he looked up at his abuser. He was so sorry. So very, very sorry. He chewed his lip anxiously, but tried to appear composed as watched his trainer closely.

“You’re _sorry?_ ” His trainer snapped.

“Yes, Master,” Gerard whimpered. His voice no longer held a tone of sarcasm when he said it. Trainer was Master. Gerard was Slave. Gerard was Whore. Gerard was Slut. There was no Gerard…

There was Slave.

“That’s what I like to hear,” the trainer said before taking his hand away from Gerard’s hair in order to slap him viciously across the face.

Gerard fell to his side and sobbed as his head collided with the wood floor. 

“I’m taking you out tonight, cum-whore,” his trainer said. Gerard stayed silent and shook as he watched droplets of his own blood congeal on the floor. “What do you _say_ when I tell you I’m giving you a treat, worthless fucking cum-slut!?” His trainer asked, kicking him firmly in the ribs three times until Gerard curled into himself and whimpered out an answer.

“Thank you, Master—I’m sorry, Master. Please… _Please…_ ”

“Please _what!?_ ” His trainer asked, kicking him in the back of the leg. Gerard guessed he was going someplace nice since the kick wasn’t aimed at his face.

“Please forgive me, Master,” Gerard whimpered.

“Why would I waste forgiveness on a filthy little fuck-slut like you? Fuckin’ little crackwhore.”

Gerard wept until he was drug up from the floor and carried into his trainer’s bathroom. He was dumped in the tub and scalding hot water rained down on him as he was ordered to scrub himself clean. There was almost gentleness in the action—Trainer let him turn some cold water on to prevent his skin from really burning…though it also ensured a lower gas bill for his captor. 

When Gerard got out of the shower at his trainer’s command, he was dried by the man himself and then had his hair blow dried. 

“Knew you’d miss a fuckin’ spot dyin’ it, you retarded crackwhore,” the trainer snapped. Gerard watched him anxiously as he pulled something from his pocket, expecting it to be a taser or cattle prod like he’d used before to cause sharp pain when he was too tired to administer a beating. Instead, it was a small can filled with a dark, black goo.

Gerard trembled as his master worked the black gel into his hair where light patches in the dyed black color came through. 

“Master?” Gerard asked, paranoid.

“Shut up,” his trainer snapped. Gerard held still and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. His trainer pulled out a small bag from his other jacket pocket and tossed it onto the counter. “If you cry, I’m cuttin’ your eyes out,” his trainer said harshly. 

Gerard froze and tried to fight the tears that immediately rushed him at the threat. He knew his trainer’s words to be true, and he knew the procedure would be carried out with the least bit of sensitivity or care. 

“Master?” Gerard stammered, looking down at the bag. 

“I’m makin’ you look pretty for the big sale, slut. If you cry and fuck it up, I’m gonna cut your fuckin’ eyes out and feed them to you.” 

Gerard trembled and stared at the bag in fear as his trainer opened it and began setting out bottles of foundation, eyeliner pens, shadow, and even blush…

“You look fuckin’ dead—you’re fucking disgusting. You look as worthless as you are, and that’s _not_ how I make cash, fuck-whore.”

Gerard just stood obediently before his trainer and let the horrible things be said. The man called for the woman who lived with him and she quickly appeared. She was sallow faced and almost as dead-looking as Gerard. 

Was she a slave? Was she the man’s sister or lover? Gerard didn’t know… He wouldn’t bare to ask.

“She’s gonna make you look like you’re worth half a shit, cum slut. You cry and fuck up her work…” 

Gerard nodded quickly and stared at his trainer as he backed out of the small bathroom to make space for the woman who grabbed for the bottle of liquid foundation.

“Cover your bruises,” she said, her voice thick with a Spanish accent. “Hide the scars.” She dapped the liquid onto a little sponge wedge and began making him over like an artist. For the first time in months, a gentle touch fell upon him. His entire face was coated with the beige liquid—hiding his bruised cheeks and the dark bags under his eyes. She used some on his neck and on his ribs…on the backs of his thighs where electric burn scars and shallow, healing lash marks were. After liquid foundation came a dusting of powder. 

Gerard chanced a look at himself in the mirror and saw something that looked like it had seen sunlight before and had slept for more than six hours a week…

“Close eyes—close eyes!” The woman snapped.

“Close your fucking eyes!” His trainer screamed from the next room. Gerard started trembling and immediately obeyed, squeezing his eyes shut and facing the woman again.

“Not so hard!” She hissed quietly. “Liner—I got to use the liner. Stupid boy.”

Gerard let his face relax and tried not to flinch when the woman pressed too hard with the pen. He opened his eyes when he told him and let her line the bottom lids without flinching or jumping at the touch of her hands.

“Got to look pretty,” she said. “Even the boys. Gotta get a buyer.”

Gerard held still as she applied a dramatic dusting of gold and red eye shadow around his eyes. 

“Wh-what’s going to happen?” Gerard dared to whisper. The woman looked at him intensely, staring through him as she set down the pallet of shadow. 

“Get a buyer—get out of this fucking house, whore.” She rolled her eyes and Gerard flinched at the harshness of her voice. He had a feeling though, that she didn’t mean to hurt him because the trainer walked past the doorway immediately after she spoke. It was like she knew her boss was watching. 

She grabbed the blush and added a fair amount to his cheeks and even put some on the curve of his shoulders as if to make him look more supple even though he was skin and bones.

“Lip gloss,” she said, grabbing a tube off the counter. “Put on before you go up. Otherwise it get all sticky—makes you look more chapped. You know how to put on?”

“Yes,” Gerard whispered. He didn’t know whether or not to call her master… He didn’t want beaten for saying it or beaten for showing disrespect…

Before leading him out of the bathroom, the woman put a thick layer of chap-stick over his lips to help with the dryness caused by chewing and dehydration… He’d been given more water and food than normal in the last few days. Gerard had suspected that something was coming…

Gerard was dressed in tight-fitting jeans and a too-tight black t-shirt that just made him look thinner than he already was. He didn’t speak a word or even lift his head when his trainer led him out of the house. He was put in the backseat of the same black car he’d been taken captive in and the woman sat in the seat beside him to keep him from jumping out.

He wouldn’t have dared.

“Master?” Gerard whimpered when the car finally pulled up outside of a large storage unit surrounded by flood lights and other cars.

“What, fuck-slut?” The man barked. 

“What’s happening, Master?” He asked, starting to tremble when people began walking around outside the car. It had been so long since he’d seen anyone other than his trainer and the woman. He was so terrified by it that he couldn’t even crave a fix of cocaine.

“I’m selling you to the S and M dungeons—thought that since you liked bawling so much, I’d get you in a place that might appreciate it more. How’s that sound, cum-whore?”

Gerard gasped and backed further into the seat of the car. He’d seen horrors when those dungeon men would come. They brought whores that they murdered—stabbed, burnt, and tortured. _He’d_ been burnt and violated by those men—he knew what they whispered about wanting to do with him. 

“Master, please!” Gerard cried, reaching out to touch his master’s arm. The woman grabbed his hand and pushed it back down.

“Shut it,” the man snapped.

Gerard looked at the woman in desperation. She just shook her head and let him stare at the men outside of the car in anguish. He was going to be sold to _them?_ Was this their film studio? They were going to set up cameras to film his torture until they tore him limb from limb and he was dead?

“No,” Gerard whimpered, too afraid to cry. Too choked with fear to scream. All the pain he’d endured and he knew there was worse that could come, and _would come_ now.

“Don’t cry. Lip gloss,” the woman said, pulling out the tube. “Look pretty.”

“Keep him here,” the man said. “I’m going to get the papers.” He got out of the car and Gerard sank down in the seat, afraid he was about to be dragged out.

“Hey,” the woman snapped. Gerard looked at her and swallowed hard. “No crying. Lip gloss…” She opened the tube and began smearing some of the liquid over his bottom lip. “Look pretty—look too pretty. No dungeon. No bad. Get a good man. Look pretty for the men.”

“How do I get a good man?” Gerard asked, shaking when he heard a burst of laugher from the parking lot around him. “Please?”

“Look too pretty to die,” the woman said. She wouldn’t look him in the eye, she just kept dabbing gloss on his lips. “Make eye contact with a good man. The bad ones all have bad eyes. You see it.”

“Trainer?” He whispered.

“Sunglasses—no bad eyes. Look at their eyes. They’re all evil, _Corazón._ Get the good one. You look too pretty to die like them.”

Gerard barely had time to respond before the door to his side of the car was pulled open and he was being dragged out. He managed a small scream, but was slapped for good measure. It was the last sound he made as he was drug into the sectioned off storage cell that served as the filthy men’s auction house. 

His trainer disappeared for a moment, but there were men in suits all around who blocked the exits. There were creatures of varying levels of depravity all around him. Some screaming. Some crying. Some peering around at other like he was… 

“Hey,” one whispered. It was a ragged, dirty blond kid with not a thread of clothing and multiple open wounds on his chest.

“What?” Gerard snapped, bearing his teeth like a feral animal. He knew what the woman meant when he saw all these creatures. They were all half-dead anyway. They would be good for slaughter—it would be a mercy. He was too pretty to die tonight. This blond _whore_ was not. He obviously wasn’t trained either if he was talking…

“If you get out, you can always sell yourself out on Twenty-Eighth Street. Men go there all the time—it’s near the theatre. They get lonely, want some cheap handsies, you know what I’m saying?” The creature cackled at him and slithered away into the crowd, repeating “handsies” over and over.

After a long period of unmarked time, Gerard’s trainer reappeared and grabbed him. 

“I got the perfect guy for you, slut,” his trainer hissed, dragging him toward the partition at of the cell. The wall separating the slaves from the masters. “Ready to chop your fucking cock off before the clock even strikes ten—and it’s nine, fuck-whore.”

Gerard gagged, but was pulled through a cloth door in the partition. Immediately, he was in darkness and the shift caused him to stumble and almost fall to his knees as he was drug by his trainer up what appeared to be a narrow set of stairs. He was pushed through another curtain and was on a stage…

There were lights, but it was dim. He tried to pull back, but his trainer drug him forward. He was petrified from the moment he laid eyes on the snake-pit of men in front of him at the foot of the stage. He saw what the woman meant.

The room smelled of evil. He could see twisted smirks on those dimly lit faces below. He could hear them chortle, saw them lick their lips before he even realized that his trainer was auctioning him off and spewing out numbers in between humiliating descriptions of him.

Virgin. Skinny. Slave. Easy.

Gerard couldn’t even scream when he realized what was happening. He was about to be taken from one horror and thrust into another, but he didn’t care. If Trainer was gone, he was safer somehow. If a dungeon man took him, his death would be slow but his suffering would be over.

Then Gerard saw him. The man that kept out-bidding the evil, lip-licking dungeon man his trainer seemed to favor. 

This man was tall and lean. His face wasn’t dark like the rest. He was amused at being there and obviously liked his show…but as Gerard ignored commands his trainer was barking at him to prove obedience, the man in the crowd started smiling at him and even waived his hand while mouthing something like “hello, Babe.”

All at once, Gerard heard his trainer growl and he was being dragged off stage back into that little dark area. He was shoved down the stairs and was immediately being beaten and kicked. He was hit so hard the wind was knocked out of him and he couldn’t even cry out.

Then the man was there, helping him up… Helping the worthless whore onto his feet.

“Hey, pretty baby,” the man said. All at once, Gerard realized his trainer was gone and he was alone with this man. He stared at him, unable to think of a word to say.

As soon as the man touched his swelling cheek, he burst out crying. Terrified. He was so, so terrified.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank woke up in the middle of the night to find Gerard sitting straight up in bed. He wasn’t panting and it didn’t sound like he was crying, but his posture was so rigid Frank knew something was wrong. It would be the third nightmare of the night.

“Is it…the table again, Sweetheart?” Frank asked. The last two nightmares consisted of being strapped to a metal table and violated, or being made to watch another slave tortured to death. It was truly horrible the things Gerard had seen…

“No,” Gerard mumbled. He shook his head and then started to lie back down. “Auctioning… Auction house…”

“Which…which time?” Frank asked gently.

“First time,” Gerard whispered. He collapsed down on the mattress and pulled Frank close to him. It seemed like he was alright. Or perhaps he’d just cried all he could the first two times. “I love you,” Gerard said softly.

“Are you okay?” Frank asked, kissing the top of Gerard’s head gently as his lover curled into him. 

“I’m lucky,” Gerard whispered. 

“Lucky?”

“All the men in that place were there to buy someone to torture to death… Except Master. All the men at the place wanted a slave, except you. I love you. I love Master.”

Frank froze, but knew better than to fight it. If Gerard had somehow found peace for the moment, he wasn’t going to argue. Gerard was in enough pain.

“I shouldn’t have been there, but I’m so glad I was,” Frank whispered, holding Gerard tight and listening to his boyfriend breathe softly. He was too calm…

“You made the worst mistake of your life,” Gerard whispered.

“No.”

“Nn… When you let me go. If you kept me like you should’ve, you would have the best life ever.”

“I like you free, Sweetheart,” Frank whispered. “And you and I both know that you would’ve murdered me in my sleep if I hadn’t.”

“Nn… I would’ve… I… My Frank. My boyfriend… My master.”

“I’m not a master,” Frank mumbled. “Just a boyfriend.”

“Just…Keeper. Be my keeper. Keep me.”

“Okay,” Frank said, shaking his head against the pillow and letting the conversation drop. Gerard was just upset and relapsing. If thoughts of ownership and possession made him comfortable enough to go back to sleep, then fine. Frank would kiss it out of him in the morning.

Except in the morning…he’d been woken up with a blowjob. He asked Gerard to stop, but his boyfriend wouldn’t. He just sucked harder until Frank made the mistake of saying, “I mean it.”

Gerard scowled at him and Frank realized that pissing Gerard off when he was relapsing was the worst thing to do. Especially when his dick was still in his boyfriend’s mouth.

Gerard bit him—and with enough ferocity to draw blood, and he drew more than just a few drops. 

Frank screamed, and rolled over onto his stomach while Gerard got up from the bed and got dressed. He said something about making breakfast, but Frank was in pain and crying. He had to wrap his penis in bandages even after his shower in order for the blood to not show through his boxers and pants.

When he came into the kitchen after washing up and getting dressed, Gerard had breakfast on the table and was washing the dishes.

“Frank?” He said softly.

“What?” 

“Don’t tell me no when I’m doing you a favor.” He turned to look at Frank with the same vicious stare he’d had when he bit him.

“Sorry,” Frank said, even though he was only sorry because his dick still hurt. “I thought you were still upset from last night when I _comforted you_ for _six hours._ ”

Of course, now Gerard started to look guilty. 

“Yeah. I thought you were having a flashback,” Frank snapped. “I thought you forgot you had a say.”

“I just like having you in my mouth,” Gerard said, shrugging.

“No you don’t,” Frank said. “You hate it. You fucking bit me!”

“Master told you that I bite.” Never before had Frank wanted to smack Gerard like he did now. But he knew better… Gerard was hiding his pain by getting mad. It was what he did…

It was how he coped.

“Why are you acting like this?” Frank snapped. “You _bit_ me when I told you to stop! Would you really rather have me let you when I don’t want it?—You want to be a _rapist?_ Because that’s what rapists do Gerard, and I’ve had enough of you acting like one.”

“I don’t act like one,” Gerard mumbled, starting to cower by the kitchen sink. Frank had a feeling it was all for show.

“Yes you do. More often than you’d like to think.”

“I made breakfast.”

“And with your attitude I suspect you poisoned it.” Frank scowled at Gerard darkly, even when his boyfriend’s face fill with pain. Gerard _deserved_ pain! 

“Frank, I wouldn’t—”

“Whatever,” Frank snapped. “I got your message, Gerard. Oh, I got it loud and clear this morning. ‘I don’t know what you’re capable of, Gerard,” he added in a mock-theatrical tone. 

“Frank, I—”

“I don’t care,” Frank said, keeping his face blank. He was still in pain and it wasn’t fair of Gerard to attack him for refusing touch he’d never even asked for. “I don’t _trust_ you.”

“Please!” Gerard cried, looking at Frank in desperation. 

“Stop it,” Frank said. “I was up _all night_ trying to make sure you were okay! All _fucking_ night! Good to know you appreciated it, asshole.” Even though there was more than an hour left before his shift started, Frank grabbed his keys and left the house, slamming the door behind him. 

For once, he didn’t even feel bad for yelling at him.

( ) ( ) ( )

About three hours into his shift, Frank came back to the front of the diner after overseeing an almost, almost catastrophic grease fire started by the new cook. He checked the register and was prepared to do his rounds, greeting customers and asking about their food, when his eyes turned toward the glass front doors. 

Instantly, a growl rose in his throat that caught his hostess off guard.

“Everything okay?” She asked, not sure why a customer entering the store alone would set him off.

Frank stepped out from behind the counter and made a point to cut the “lone customer” off before he could step in sight of the seating areas. 

“Get out,” Frank immediately barked.

Gerard looked at him, grasping for words with pleading eyes, but Frank was going to have none of it. It was time Gerard learned that he couldn’t get away with everything just because of his past. Frank had taken enough abuse from him, and he was determined that this be the end of it. If he’d asked for the blowjob it would be different, but to be assaulted for asking an _assault_ to stop was ridiculous. 

“Frank, please,” Gerard started, reaching for Frank’s hands even though Frank pushed them and even slapped them away.

“Stop it. Get out.” Frank pointed toward the front doors and resorted to physically pushing Gerard toward them. He didn’t shove, he just forcibly guided…

“I’m sorry,” Gerard cried, still trying to grab for Frank’s hands as he was backed toward the doors. “I’m really sorry!”

“And I really don’t care—get the fuck out,” he hissed under his breath. “Get out, or I’ll have you _thrown out._ I don’t care—go home.”

“Frank, please—I just came to apologize,” Gerard said, trying to brace himself against Frank’s pressing hand.

“No, you came to make a scene. Get out, _now._ Now!” Frank didn’t care when Gerard started crying. He would deal with him later when he was calmer. If Gerard would just give him his space, he wouldn’t have to be hurt any more than he was this morning. 

“Frank…”

“You need to leave _now,_ ” Frank repeated, pointing at the door and one step away from shoving Gerard outside. The only thing that stopped him was the hostess who appeared at his side, unaware of who Gerard was, just prepared to aid her boss.

“Sir, you have to go. We have the right to refuse service to anyone who makes our work environment uncomfortable,” the hostess said, looking on in confusion as Gerard finally went to open the door. 

“Get out,” Frank repeated when Gerard hesitated. 

“I’m sorry,” Gerard whispered one final time before stepping slowly out the door.

“Who is this guy?” The hostess asked before Gerard had even turned away.

“No idea,” Frank said, not anticipating that Gerard would hear. But when he looked through the glass doors, to see to it that Gerard actually left, he was met with a look more heartbreaking than the one he’d seen on the stage that night.

A look of confusion and betrayal. 

For that, Frank felt bad.

( ) ( ) ( )

An hour before his shift ended, Frank was overwhelmed with the desire to sink down behind the counter and hide when he saw Mikey storm through the diner’s front door. 

The hostess approached him with a friendly smile and asked if he were expecting more people for a table, but Mikey told her that he needed to have a chat with the “dipshit manager.” The hostess looked to Frank with an expression of terror and quickly went to her little menu rack and started disinfecting laminated pages. It was as far as she could retreat without abandoning her responsibilities to her job.

“What the hell is your problem?” Mikey asked, getting as close to Frank as he could with the counter between them. He kept his voice low, not caring to make a scene was determined to send a message.

“Look, he—”

“Yeah he told me,” Mikey said. “He’s at my apartment—I had to bring him _to_ my apartment, and do you want to know why?”

Frank kept expecting Mikey to reach across the counter and strangle him, but there was no rage in Mikey’s face. He looked cool…bitter, but not mad.

“I don’t—”

“I had to _talk him down,_ Frank,” Mikey said, making sure Frank held his gaze as he spoke it. “You’re _lucky_ I just _happened_ to call him. I was going to see if he wanted to go to the movies because I knew he had the day off. When he picked up the phone… God, Frank. I’m only here because _Lindsey_ stole a tranquilizer and left work to give it to me! Fucking psych-ward grade tranquilizer, Frank. Are you going to say _anything?_ ”

Frank’s heart had dropped into the pit of his stomach the moment he realized he’d almost killed his boyfriend. Talk him down? Mikey had to talk him down?

“You told your fucking wait staff you didn’t even _know_ him?” Mikey asked. 

“I didn’t mean it,” Frank mumbled, knowing the words were worthless and lost on Mikey.

“That doesn’t matter,” Mikey said matter-of-factly. “He told me he could handle you throwing him out, but he said he didn’t like getting _dumped_ in front of a building full of strangers. Now you’re leaving _right now_ and you’re coming with me. So when he wakes up, you can convince him it was all a fucking dream. Do you understand?”

“He’s not going to believe that,” Frank whispered, already reaching over to the computer to clock out. 

“Tell him he misheard you! Tell him you said ‘this guy I know’ or ‘somebody I used to fuckin’ know’! Don’t let him think you told your waitress you don’t know your own fucking boyfriend.”

“Okay,” Frank whispered, looking over at the hostess who was still cleaning menus.

“Let’s go. Lindsey needs to get back to work and she’s the one watching him.”

“Okay,” Frank said. Mikey stormed out of the diner and Frank slowly approached the hostess. He told her to tell the manager following his shift that he’d left for a family emergency. He told her that the head cook was temporarily in charge, and asked that—on a personal note—she not tell about what happened with Gerard.

Skeptically, she agreed.


	32. Chapter 32

_Chapter 32_

Frank cried out in pain when he made it to Mikey’s apartment and was led to Gerard’s unconscious body in the bedroom. Lindsey was sitting beside him, petting his hand and grasping it whenever Gerard’s face would twist with either agony or horror.

He was trapped in a nightmare and the drugs made him incapable of waking up. Frank could see all of the signs on his face and in his posture under the thin blankets. He was in pain—he was scared and there was no touch that could bring him back or save him.

Even if he’d been bitten and his pride and trust were wounded, he _loved_ Gerard—sane or crazy. It hurt to see him like this. It hurt worse than anything.

“What did you give him?” Frank asked Lindsey as he sat down beside Gerard on the bed and grabbed his other hand.

“I brought some pills, but he was…” Lindsey shook her head. “He was in hysterics. I had to use the… I didn’t _want_ to. I’m going to have to find a patient I can get to vouch for why it’s missing and say I used it on them in the hospital, but…”

“What did you give him?” Frank repeated, looking at her intensely. 

“I had to stick a needle in the arm of my best friend…who is _afraid_ of needles. But… He was going to hurt himself. He was… I don’t know. I didn’t give him the full dose. I knew he’d have the nightmares and I didn’t want him trapped in there any longer than he has to be to calm down.”

Gerard moaned softly in his sleep, a sound of agony, and his hand squeezed around Frank’s.

“It’s okay,” Frank whispered, even though he knew Gerard couldn’t hear him. Gerard was crying in his sleep and kept making small noises of pain until his mind seemed to give way and his face became blank. 

“I have to go back to work, but don’t give him any other medications—don’t give him anything else to make him sleep. If he goes into hysterics again… I don’t know. Call an ambulance. I don’t _think_ he will—not with _you_ here, but… Of course, some things to know. Don’t argue with him. Be as patient as you can. When he comes to, he’ll probably be disoriented. He’s gonna have a headache. He might slip in and out of consciousness. I really _hope_ he doesn’t have any lucid dreams or hallucinations. With his mental state, though… He probably will. Just reassure him nothing is there, and if it gets bad, call an ambulance.”

Lindsey walked out and Frank reached out to stoke Gerard’s cheek. His boyfriend didn’t react. He stayed still and unaware. 

“He cut himself in his studio,” Mikey said from the doorway.

“He tried to commit suicide again?” Frank asked, looking up from Gerard’s face and staring at Mikey in horror.

“Well, he was telling me he was going to when I got to your place, but that’s not why he cut. Not exactly…” Mikey said with a heavy sigh.

“I don’t…” Frank looked back at Gerard and cradled his hand to his chest. 

“He was using his blood to watercolor.”

“What?” Frank asked, looking back at his boyfriend in horror. 

“I don’t know why…” Mikey said with an air of resignation. “He was like that when I found him. I convinced him to come home with me and that was when he really, really lost it.”

“Did Lindsey say when he would wake up?” Frank asked, stroking Gerard’s hair gently.

“A couple hours. She barely gave him anything. She just wanted to knock him out so he’d stop screaming.”

“What happened?” Frank asked, waiting for Mikey to start a bitter rant about how badly he’d treated Gerard—a rape victim, an injured former slave—but Mikey just shrugged.

“All he wanted to say was that he didn’t mean to take you for granted again and that if you left, he’d die. And then he just kept saying he was going to die and that was when Lindsey jabbed him with the needle. Then he just started crying and gagging about needles and passed out. She made it sound worse than it was…”

“I can’t believe I let this happen again,” Frank mumbled. “I _love_ Gerard.”

“Well, he’s hard to handle. I’m going to go lay down on the couch. Call me if he wakes up. I want to make sure he’s okay, too.”

“I will,” Frank whispered, looking down at Gerard who still had tears running down his face even though his expression had become calm.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard was trapped. He knew what was happening _wasn’t_ happening, but it didn’t make it any easier to bear. He _felt_ the pain. He _heard_ the cruel words. He felt Adam’s hands on his body. Felt himself be beaten and broken and violated. It was like a film stuck on repeat. Over and over he was grabbed and forced into the bedroom.

His wrist was broken again and again and Adam threatened him over and over.

Gerard just went through the motions of fighting back. 

He cried out in agony and felt his nightmare split, but only for a brief second. Adam was gone though. Replaced with Master.

But Gerard would take Master over Adam or Trainer.

“Oh, pretty. So pretty. Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

It echoed over and over in his mind and Gerard felt himself shake his head no before he was kissed and taken for the very first time. It hurt, but it was gentle. Gerard cried, but he sort of liked it…

Gerard cried when the image switched from one of gentleness to one of abuse. Being beaten as his master dragged him down the basement where _serious_ punishments were executed. Handcuffed to support beams, forced to stand until his legs gave out, made to hang by his arms once they did…

No food. No water. No sunlight. No attention. All he heard were muffled voices overhead and the occasional footstep. Sometimes his master would tap on the basement door, just to make him wonder if he was coming down. Just to make him anxious.

Even a visit bringing a beating would be better than the isolation. His only company usually the sounds of the hot water heater or the furnace… His only contact besides the handcuffs and the basement floor being the toy in his body that almost always slid out when he fell unconscious at night.

Master didn’t care. The toy was there to humiliate and scare him. It didn’t really matter if it fell out or not. Master would beat him with the same relentlessness regardless.

The punishment wasn’t over after Master tied him to the beams. The punishment was over after Master came to get him and beat him the last time.

Then there was usually a little aftercare unless he’d done something awful.

Unless he’d done something like _bite his Master._

That time…the basement stay was close to a month long. He was taken from the beam after a week, made to lie on the floor. Given food once a week and a bottle of water meant to last him a day. His bathroom was a bucket in the corner. He had no clothes, nothing soft to lay on at night… 

The beatings came at random. Sometimes twice a day, sometimes twice a week… Sometimes every day for two weeks. Over and over until Gerard submitted and did what he was told. He was ashamed as he sucked on his master’s cock. He didn’t know how to do it. He hadn’t been trained in giving head.

He was embarrassed that he wasn’t good at it. He hated the feel of it, the taste of it, the thought of it… It was the one thing that he hated more than any punishment.

So when Master came downstairs and beat him with the buckle end of a belt until he broke and bled and screamed, Gerard still preferred it over what he submitted to at the end. He’d really just wanted to go back up to bed and feel warmth again… And to be showered and clean and pretty.

Because he used to be pretty…

“Am…Am I still pretty?” Gerard asked. It felt weird coming out of his mouth. He thought he was lying on the basement floor with his master looming over him after he’d finished his chore.

“Baby…” 

Gerard cried out because his head felt like he was being beaten with a sledgehammer. He started sobbing, and it felt different from the sobs he’d felt before. He wasn’t dreaming now…was he?

“Ow,” Gerard whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut against the small, painful sliver of light outside his eyes.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

At first, Gerard couldn’t even recognize the voice. He felt like he’d been overcome by an avalanche—thrown and tossed up and down, back and forth. He was so disoriented, lost in all of the layers of his memory. He didn’t know what day it was—what year it was. What his name was, whether it was Gerard, or Fuck-Whore, or Cum-Slut, or Babe.

“Gerard, Sweetheart…are you okay?”

That voice again.

Gerard moaned in pain to answer it, not wanting his master—what master called a slave Sweetheart?—to beat him or get impatient. He wanted to show that he was listening.

“Gerard? Are you okay? Sweetheart, please…”

Gerard really wanted to know that voice, but he couldn’t get his eyes to open against the burning light to see the face.

“Who is that?” Gerard cried in desperation. Immediately, he screamed and forced himself to roll onto his side, wanting to guard his face from the blow destined to come.

_Your fucking master! Who the fuck do you think!?_ boomed a voice dangerously close to his ear—only it was far, far away.

“Baby, it’s me. It’s Frank.”

Gerard felt a gentle hand run down his side and he rolled over onto his stomach, moaning from pain. His head was throbbing, and he started to feel dizzy and nauseous. 

“Gerard… Are you going to be okay? Do you want water? Sweetheart?”

Gerard wanted to ask who Frank was and when his master would be coming back, but in the safety of the mattress and with his head under the pillow, he was able to block out enough light to get his eyes to open.

“Master?” Gerard asked. 

“No… Baby, it’s just me. Frank? You know… Your boyfriend—I love you.”

“Boyfriend?” Gerard echoed, moaning again in pain and closing his eyes. “Head hurts…”

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart…”

Gerard tried to come out from under the pillow, but it was still too bright and too painful.

“Hurt my eyes.”

“I’ll turn off the light—it’s really late.”

All at once it was dark and Gerard was able to slide his eyes open. There was an expanding beam of light across the room—the Frank guy was opening a door to let the hall light in. 

It was really dark…

“Gerard, do you remember today at all?”

Today? Gerard didn’t even know what year it was—whether this was life or a dream. Who the fuck was Frank?

_Oh…_ Right. Frank…

“I…I had bad dreams,” Gerard choked out.

“I know—I was here. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. You mean more to me than that. It was stupid and cruel and I love you. I didn’t mean it.” Frank was crying and Gerard wanted him to stop because the high pitch made his headache worse… 

“My head hurts,” Gerard repeated.

“I know.” All at once, there was a cold hand pressing against his forehead and stroking his cheek. He didn’t like it, but he wanted the gentle affection after being lost in torturous nightmares.

“Did I hurt you?” Gerard asked, remembering vaguely that Frank person’s face and all of the pain. He knew Frank was his boyfriend—knew they had a life—but the holes were still being filled in.

“A little, but I overreacted. I was so mean to you—I’m so sorry…”

“Did I bite you?” Gerard asked, not sure why Frank thought anything less than a severe physical beating was an overreaction. Unless that was why his head hurt so bad. Maybe he was beaten…

“Yeah, but… It hurt but I didn’t have the right to say what I did.”

“Did you hit me?” Gerard asked, looking through the darkness at the figure sitting beside him on the bed.

“No, Sweetheart!”

“Why does my head hurt?” Gerard asked, moaning softly and trying to sit up in the bed. The movement made him nauseous so he laid back down.

“Lindsey had to give you a tranquilizer. She and Mikey said you were really upset.”

“Upset…?” Gerard groaned in agony and rolled onto his side, curling against his boyfriend Frank.

“Do you remember, Sweetheart?”

“Kind of,” Gerard murmured, feeling exhausted and lightheaded. “I need water…”

“I’ll get you water, okay?” Frank got up and left through the beam of light across the room. Gerard reached out for the light and closed his eyes slowly. He jolted awake when he felt a cup being gently coaxed into his hand. “Water, Sweetheart.”

Gerard pressed his lips to the rim of the cup and spilled most of the cup down his chin but enough got into his mouth and down his throat. It was immediately soothing, and the throb in his head became a dull but bearable ache.

He fell asleep again, forgetting to set down the cup and dropping it onto the floor.

( ) ( ) ( )

When Gerard came to the second time, he was weeping and Frank tried and tried to calm him. Mikey even came in to offer support, but Gerard just held his hand and sobbed into Frank’s chest. He refused to say what was wrong, but stammered “Master, Master” over and over until Mikey got him to drink another cup of water and convinced him to lay back down.

Then he just bolted back up and screamed because there was another man in the room and he really wanted Mikey to make him leave. They tried to convince him that no one was there, but Gerard started thrashing as if someone were beating him and pinning him. 

He kept screaming until he went back to sleep—or rather blacked out.

When he woke up again, he was silent and just glared up at Frank with all the hatred in the world. When Frank asked what was wrong, Gerard spat something about how Frank wasn’t a master and went back to bed.

Frank slept on the floor beside him, not wanting Gerard to wake up with someone he may or may not recognize in his bed. They both got to sleep through the night, and Frank called Gerard off work on the pretense that he had been in some sort of accident. Frank worked the evening shift and couldn’t call off, so he was praying that Gerard would feel better now that it was morning.

Finally, around two o’clock, Gerard woke up completely and Frank was quick to reach for his hand and start caressing it. Gerard’s face was pale and his eyes were bleary and bloodshot. He looked like he was about to cry, and Frank was sure it was from more nightmares.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” Frank said gently, squeezing Gerard’s hand when Gerard looked up at him.

“My head hurts,” Gerard whispered, tears falling once he said it.

“I know, Sweethearts. It’s from the drugs Lindsey gave you. She called and said she’s gonna come visit you tonight while I’m at work.” 

“My head really hurts,” Gerard repeated before breaking into quiet sobs. He pulled his hand away from Frank’s in order to cover his face as he wept. 

“It’s okay, Gerard,” Frank said, scooting closer to him on the bed and reaching out to stroke his hair. Gerard flinched and fell away from him, curling into a ball on the mattress. “Sweetheart, does it hurt that bad?” Frank asked, feeling the crushing guilt press down on him even more. It was one thing to hurt Gerard’s feelings, it was another thing completely to trap him in unbearable nightmares all night and make him wake up to severe pain. 

No escape, neither awake nor asleep.

Gerard started shaking with each gentle touch Frank tried to offer and eventually resorted to letting out a low scream to make him stop trying.

The scream alerted Mikey who frightened Frank out of the room with one harsh glare.

( ) ( ) ( )

When Mikey came into the room, Gerard was cowering and crying and Frank still kept trying to pet him like a dog. Once Frank was out of the room, Gerard’s sobs hitched in his chest and he seemed to relax a little.

“Hey,” Mikey said, sitting down at the foot of the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Head hurts,” Gerard cried, still trembling.

“Do you want some water? I can probably give you some Tylenol.”

“Okay,” Gerard whimpered. 

Mikey left the room without giving Gerard any unwanted contact and got him a cup of ice water and two pills. Frank watched him anxiously from the couch in the living room, but Mikey ignored him as he returned to the bedroom.

He got Gerard to take both of the pills, and his brother finished the cup of water in a few quick gulps before he began chewing on the ice.

“Your headache should go away soon. Are you sick to your stomach or anything?” Mikey asked.

Gerard shook his head and slid another ice cube into his mouth. 

“Do you feel any better?” 

Gerard just shrugged and shook the cup while staring at the ice.

“Do you remember what happened yesterday?”

“I remember horrible things,” Gerard said, starting to cry again. “I spent all night getting beaten—in my head. It’s all in my _head._ ”

Mikey took the cup of ice from his brother’s hands when they started shaking uncontrollably. 

“Do you want Frank to come in?” Mikey asked. Gerard shook his head and wept, burying his face in his quivering hands. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Nightmares,” Gerard cried. “Over and over. All night—I don’t even know what’s happening.”

“It’s okay. You’re awake now. No one here is going to hurt you.”

“You don’t understand,” Gerard whispered. “It’s like it’s happening all over.”

“I know it’s hard, but you have to try to block it out. You’re not there anymore. You’re here with me and Frank. I can make you some lunch. You’ll probably feel better if you’re not starving—you’re obviously really thirsty.”

Mikey tried and tried to get Gerard to come back to the present time, but all he seemed capable of doing was crying and whimpering. He got him another cup of water, and when it was gone Gerard said his headache was starting to go away. Mikey asked him if he wanted to go back to sleep, but he shook his head no. 

“Look, I don’t want to stress you out any more, but Frank’s losing his mind out there in the living room. He feels really bad about what happened yesterday. Do you…remember yesterday?”

Gerard’s face was blank for a moment and then he slowly nodded his head. 

“I feel sick,” Gerard whispered. 

“Do you want me to grab the trashcan?” Mikey asked with some urgency. Gerard shook his head and shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m…” Gerard’s breathing started to get rapid and Mikey took his empty cup away and left to refill it. He was hoping that if he distracted his brother with more fluids it would somehow ebb the building panic attack. 

When he got back into the room, Gerard was still hyperventilating and when Mikey pushed the fresh cup into his hands. Gerard took a sip and then whimpered. 

“He’s gonna leave me,” Gerard cried, looking at Mikey with utter devastation.

“He’s here, he’s been with you all night—he’s worried you’re gonna leave him. He’s not leaving you.”

“I-I ruined everything,” Gerard said, taking another drink before sobbing. 

“Stop—Gerard, nothing is ruined. Look what happened was simple, okay? You bit him, you guys get in a fight, you come in to apologize and he gets mad because he’s still hurt. You got upset and…here we are. It’s not bad. It happens. Stuff like this happens.”

“I… I can’t look at him,” Gerard whimpered. “I feel horrible—I feel sick.”

“Gerard, you’ve gotta try to calm down,” Mikey said. He didn’t want to make his brother feel ashamed of being upset, he was just afraid that his distress would lead to another outburst. If he snapped again, he’d probably end up in Lindsey’s hospital for another extended stay. “Frank isn’t mad at you—”

“Because I freaked out!” Gerard cried. “If…If I weren’t fucking crazy he’d still be upset. He’s gonna think I did this on purpose so he wouldn’t get mad!”

“Gerard, he doesn’t think that. Please stop this. Just…talk to Frank, okay?”

“I can’t,” Gerard cried. “I…I’m the worst thing that ever happened to Frank.”

“Stop it, Gerard,” Mikey said with a heavy sigh. “Frank was here all night taking care of you. He’s not mad—and he loves you. Don’t…don’t hurt yourself anymore, okay? It hurts Frank.”

“That’s why I can’t talk to him,” Gerard said, taking a drink of water and rubbing at his face with his free hand. “I just keep hurting him and I love him… I don’t _mean_ to.”

“And that’s what you need to say to _Frank,_ ” Mikey said, reaching out and putting a hand on Gerard’s shoulder. “He’s not mad. He’s worried—he wants to make sure you’re okay.”

“Is he mad?” Gerard asked, even though Mikey kept reassuring him that he wasn’t.

“No… He’s scared. Okay? He’s _worried._ And…he feels responsible. And he kind of is—he had no right to say what he did. But he’s _sorry._ ”

“ _I’m_ sorry,” Gerard said, shaking his head.

“And that’s what you need to say to Frank…” Mikey said, standing up from the bed. Gerard tried to argue, but Mikey left to get Frank. There was nothing he could say to calm Gerard and Frank was their only hope to stop him from breaking down again.


	33. Chapter 33

_Chapter 33_

Gerard cowered when Frank came back in the room. He was afraid of just the sight of him, even though he knew better than to think Frank would actually hurt him. He could tell by how nervous Frank was when he entered the room. Poor Frank was pale and looked so intimidated…so heartbroken. 

One look and Gerard found the pain in his chest so unbearable that he had to look down at the bed. He couldn’t face Frank—he loved him too much to face what he’d done. 

“Gerard… Are you, you know, feeling any better?” Frank asked, his voice shaking. 

“Um… Mikey, he—he, uh… M-Mikey gave me Tylenol. S-so my head doesn’t… It doesn’t hurt so bad, I guess,” Gerard said, starting to pick at the skin of his hands. 

“That’s good,” Frank said, forcing a little bit of cheer into his voice. “Um… Can I…Can I sit with you? Is that okay?”

“O-Okay,” Gerard stammered, scooting over to the far side of Mikey’s bed. Frank seemed to understand the gesture, even if he was hurt by it, and sat at the very edge of the foot of the bed.

“Sweetheart, we need to talk about…about what happened yesterday,” Frank said. Gerard made a quiet noise, trying to express his horror and sorrow in the same sound that came out like a child’s wail. “Gerard, please… I’m not mad, okay? We’re not having a fight, okay? I just want to understand what happened.”

“I… I’m a ho-horrible boyfriend. Wh-what’s left to understand?” Gerard cried. 

“Gerard… I understand that you were stressed out, okay? On a normal day, when you didn’t spend the night having bad dreams, you wouldn’t have…wouldn’t have done anything like, you know…what happened yesterday.”

“I had bad dreams before and never hurt you…” Gerard whispered.

“Can you just…tell me what, you know… What you were thinking or…or _feeling?_ When it happened? Like if…” When Frank trailed off, Gerard looked up at him to check his expression. He looked guilty and anxious. Like he really though it was his fault. “Did I say something that hurt your feelings?”

“I don’t know,” Gerard said, trying not to cry again. He didn’t want Frank to think he was trying to cry his way out of it or garner sympathy.

“Sweetheart, please… I had to have said something. It’s okay—I understand that you were upset. Gerard, I know your nightmares. I know how badly you’ve been hurt… _I know._ ”

“I just wanted to say th-thanks for staying up with me,” Gerard whispered, picking his skin until he drew blood. He dabbed at the spot with his finger, smearing the little bead of blood before moving on to a different spot. “I don’t know… I was just going to be—I-I don’t know! I didn’t _mean_ to!” Gerard cried. 

“I know—I know, Sweetheart,” Frank said, scooting up to the head of the bed and reaching out to grab Gerard’s hand to stop him from picking his skin. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you—it was something that happened and we’re past it now, okay? I’m not mad. Please, don’t feel so bad about it.” 

“I didn’t mean to,” Gerard said, pulling his hands away from Frank’s and scratching at his wrists. 

“Gerard, please stop… Stop.” Frank grabbed his hands again and held them even when Gerard resisted. He didn’t like the feeling of being restrained, but tried to distract himself anyway he could to keep from panicking. The bad days were over…he couldn’t panic. It was over. “When you came into the diner to see me…it was _wrong_ of me to act that way. It was _wrong._ ”

“Shouldn’t have been there,” Gerard whispered. 

“Sweetheart, you were upset. I know you were… Okay? I was upset, too. That’s why I acted like a jerk.”

“You acted like you should’ve… If I were normal,” Gerard mumbled.

“You _are_ normal,” Frank said gently. “Gerard, you’ve been through enough trauma. I know you don’t like it, but you’re sensitive, okay? I know better than to snap at you. And even if you weren’t I had no right to tell my hostess…that I didn’t know you. That was just cruel—I’m so sorry, Sweetheart.”

“It hurt…as much as me biting you hurt…” Gerard said.

“Then…okay, let’s just call it even on that, okay? We’re both sorry for what we did.”

“Okay,” Gerard whispered. 

“But what…we really need to talk about is what happened after you left the diner, okay? I’m worried about you. Mikey said he had to talk you down.”

“I was just panicking… It’s over,” Gerard said, pulling his hands away from Frank and going back to picking. Frank let him this time.

“Gerard, those kinds of thoughts don’t go away that fast.”

“You know I want to die,” Gerard whispered. “I’ve _always_ wanted to die. I live for _you._ When I left you and lived on my own, I stayed alive because of the _songs_ I wrote about you. I always hoped I’d find you again and that’s what made me keep going.”

“Sweetheart…”

Gerard stopped picking at his hands and moved to digging his nails into his forearms. He didn’t want to tell Frank how he felt. He was afraid he’d get pushed back into the psych ward or put on lockdown. He was able to cope with his feelings, just not when bad things happened.

“I… I was afraid you were going to come home and tell me to leave,” Gerard whispered, feeling the tears burning the backs of his eyes. He felt embarrassed and vulnerable. He didn’t like being so exposed. Not to anyone.

“I wouldn’t have done that to you,” Frank said. “I was…I was really wrong to have turned you away before. I’ve made some bad mistakes, but you’re really the first serious relationship I’ve ever had—I’m gonna screw up sometimes.”

“You’re the only guy who loves me,” Gerard whispered. “I don’t know how to handle that…”

“It’s okay,” Frank said, grabbing Gerard’s hand to stop him from drawing more blood with his scratching. “Sweetheart, can you tell me what happened after you left the diner?”

“I went home…and, um… I-I sat on the couch for a while and tried to be…be good,” Gerard whispered, shaking when the memories of all those emotions rushed him. To be lonely, to be afraid of getting tossed away like trash, to have his dream home taken away…to have hurt Frank irreparably. 

“Okay,” Frank said reaching out tentatively to rub Gerard’s shoulder. 

Gerard flinched, even though the contact was comforting. After a night of painful memories, touch was fear. Everything looked painful and frightening. He wanted to lean his head on Frank’s shoulder, but didn’t want to get too close. 

“Um… I was okay for a while then… But I started to get scared and…I don’t really remember. I got upset and I went to go work on art stuff—I th-thought I could use my studio to calm down and I was going to paint and I cut myself on the pallet knife.”

“Where?” Frank asked, noticing that there weren’t any marks on his fingers or hands other than the wounds from his scratching and picking. “Gerard…”

“I don’t know,” Gerard whispered, not wanting to admit it. He’d literally blacked out when he grabbed the pallet knife. One minute it was in his hand, the next it was bloody and he was stinging and burning. 

“Gerard…”

“I don’t know…” Gerard repeated, shrinking and closing his eyes tightly as if he could really make it all disappear. 

Frank was quiet with an all-knowing look on his face. 

“What did you do?” Frank pressed. 

Gerard looked at him sadly, pleading for his boyfriend not to make him tell. It seemed to be understood without being spoken—he didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to admit it.

“Gerard…”

“I-I don’t remember doing it,” Gerard said, choking when the tears fell. “I-I just…I had it in my hand and then I was hurt.”

“Where?” Frank asked critically. 

“ _There,_ ” Gerard said, looking away towards the wall. “Th-then Mikey called and I realized what I did and I couldn’t stop crying.”

“Gerard…how bad did you hurt yourself?” Frank asked. Gerard shook his head, not wanting to talk about it anymore. It wasn’t bad—he hadn’t _meant_ to. It just happened… It _still_ hurt, but it was punishment. He deserved to know how he had made Frank feel when he bit.

He deserved to be cut.

“Gerard,” Frank said with a heavy sigh. “Let me…let me look at it, okay? If you get an _infection_ you’re _not_ going to like all of the doctors that are going to touch you.”

“No one’s touching me,” Gerard snapped, feeling cold terror shoot him through the throat. 

“Let me look, okay?”

“No,” Gerard said, pulling away covering himself with his hands. “I can take care of myself.”

“No you can’t,” Frank said firmly. “Let me look. You know I won’t hurt it, okay?”

“It’s…It’s all _dried_ now, okay? The blood dried—it’s fine.” Gerard started groaning when Frank tried coaxing him. He knew how to take care of wounds. He’d had to for Master all the time. His master didn’t clean and dress his wounds. It was his own responsibility. 

“Gerard, please. I just want to take care of you…”

“Not…not that,” Gerard whispered, cowering when Frank reached for him again.

“Gerard,” Frank said, his voice too harsh. “You cut yourself open, and—according to Mikey—you were _painting_ with the blood.”

“He said that because he saw the knife,” Gerard snapped, starting to tremble. 

“He said you were _watercoloring._ ”

“I was confused!” Gerard cried, shaking his head. “I didn’t know what it was anymore! I thought I was hallucinating! I thought it was a flashback! I thought it was paint—I swear to _God,_ Frank! I thought it was _paint!_ ”

( ) ( ) ( )

When Frank got off work, he went home instead of going to Mikey’s to pick up Gerard. He had a feeling Gerard was better—safer—with his brother. There wasn’t any pressure at Mikey’s house. No obligations, no lover to worry about, less stress… Mikey hadn’t protested when Frank suggested it over the phone. Gerard spent most of the day sleeping and had, as Mikey put it, “cleaned the affected area” so there was nothing to worry about.

Gerard had spent most of the day sleeping, and only Lindsey could convince him to eat anything. He needed time to recover, and Frank felt that Gerard would be better with Mikey instead of here…

Besides, he needed to clean up the blood in the studio.

Frank sighed when he opened the door. Right away he found the pallet knife. It was crusted with blood, but not too much. He’d been expecting spatters and—in some of his worst horrors as he managed the diner—little pieces of flesh. 

There were a few drops of blood in the carpet, but not bad. As for the painting, Gerard seemed to have just mixed a few drops in water and had managed to add a red—now murky brown—shadow to an ink drawing of a wilted flower he’d drawn weeks before. Frank was sorry it had gotten ruined…

Frank didn’t know whether to throw the picture away or leave it. It was definitely a bad memory, but if Gerard wanted his dick-blood painted flower and Frank threw it away, he was going to get pissed off. Or sad. Or violent.

Frank wished it wasn’t so easy to imagine Gerard inflicting damage on himself. Gerard felt so horrible about biting him that he cut three even lines across the top of his cock… The last was the most shallow, but the first was still bleeding when Frank finally got Gerard to let him check. 

Gerard swore he didn’t remember doing it, and by the strategic placement of the cuts, it was obvious he’d been paying attention when he made the cuts. Maybe it was part of a flashback, but he’d never had scars there before.

But Frank was going to be sporting a few of his own, so he—in his own twisted way of coping—considered it their “couple’s tattoo.” A mark to show their commitment to each other.

Poor Gerard…

Frank didn’t know what to do with him. On a typical night, if Gerard was upset but not in the midst of flashbacks and terror, Frank would offer sex or blowjobs because—on a usual night—it _really_ calmed him down. He felt desired, he felt useful, he felt valued, and he was satisfied. Now, they were both too injured to partake and it would be at least two weeks before Frank would be willing to even consider it.

And who really knew when Gerard would be okay for sex again… After being trapped in nightmares by psych ward grade drugs, it was doubtful he’d want to even kiss.

Every time things went well, this happened… Frank was so tired of having it happen.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard convinced Mikey to take him home the next day, desperate to see Frank again because he knew Frank had the day off. He wanted to apologize, and he was feeling more sated and normal now that the last of the drugs and most of the horrors were out of his system. He wanted to prove to Frank that he could recover and this wouldn’t set them back another six months to a year. He wished he could go home and kiss Frank into their bedroom, but both of them were hurting and he really didn’t want touched so soon…

Even when he’d slept at Mikey’s house the second night—without Frank, but next to Mikey after a lot of begging—he woke up terrified and fearful of every sound and touch. Mikey shared the bed with him and Gerard was thankful because if he’d woken up alone after having a night terror about being choked and burned while getting raped by both Adam and his Trainer. It was the worst thing his mind had ever concocted, and if Mikey hadn’t been there to reassure him that the vivid images weren’t real, he probably would’ve tried drowning himself in the bathtub.

When Gerard got home, Frank was out back with the dogs and rather than creeping outside to join him, Gerard wandered into his studio. He felt guilty when he’d seen that Frank had cleaned up the mess. Even the blood was cleaned off his neatly placed pallet knife and the desk…

Gerard looked down at his desk and shuddered at his ruined drawing. With little more than a thought of remorse, he fisted the paper in his hand and prepared to chuck into his tiny trashcan. 

“Gerard, when did you get home?”

Immediately, memories of training and beatings fresh in his mind, Gerard’s knees gave out and he dropped to the floor. It took everything he had not to burst out that he was sorry, that he didn’t mean to sneak in, that he wasn’t going to throw it away…

“Oh, sorry! I’m sorry, Gerard. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?” Frank hurried to help him stand back up, but Gerard just latched onto him and brought him down to the floor instead. He pressed a quick kiss onto his lips and then buried his face in Frank’s chest.

Even though Mikey had helped him get through the nightmares, nothing rivaled the comfort Gerard got from Frank’s familiar touch and familiar smell. He knew all of Frank’s curves—the arch and dip of every rib—and knew how much pressure he could push into a hug without causing pain. Frank was the only thing that really brought him comfort, and he didn’t want him to go away.

“I missed you, too,” Frank whispered, kissing the top of Gerard’s head and hugging him back. Gerard took it as forgiveness—real forgiveness instead of just words—and kissed at Frank’s neck affectionately. He didn’t mean it in a seductive way; he just didn’t want to pull himself away from Frank’s chest. 

It was warm and safe. So safe. Frank would never, ever hurt him.

“You’re feeling better?” Frank said, stroking Gerard’s hair and cooing at him as he started rocking them back and forth like a child. It was strange, but Gerard appreciated it. He felt so loved…

“I missed you,” Gerard whispered. 

“Oh, I missed you too. I was up all night worrying about you,” Frank said. “My poor, Sweetheart. I don’t want you to be hurt…”

“I’m okay,” Gerard mumbled, not wanting Frank to think he was damaged again. He didn’t want pushed back into the hospital. He was sure he could recover quickly if Frank kept holding him like this… If Frank just never let him go…

“You seem tired,” Frank said.

“Nightmares,” Gerard said, curling up against Frank’s chest. The only thing better would be if they were lying on the couch—if he could be backed against the cushion and Frank pressed as close as possible, pinning him but with affection. It was the safest, most comforting feeling in the world—like Frank was a barrier between him and the outside world. 

“Do you want to come lay down with me? I’m sleepy—we could take a nap.”

“Okay,” Gerard said, kissing Frank under the chin and slowly sitting up on his own. “Can we sleep on the couch? I wanna lie on the couch.” Gerard was afraid Frank was going to ask if he was afraid he was going to try to force him into sex. But Frank just smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek. 

“You’re cute,” he said, helping Gerard to his feet and holding his hand all the way to the couch in the living room. He kissed Gerard before sitting him down and waited until Gerard was situated—his back pressed firmly against the cushions—before lying down next to him and kissing him gently. 

Gerard nestled his head under Frank’s chin and closed his eyes. He knew the nightmares would come, but he felt safe here… If he woke up scared, Frank would make it all better.

Frank would kiss him until it was safe to open his eyes again. 

“I feel safe like this,” Gerard whispered. 

“That’s good,” Frank whispered. “I love having you close like this.” Frank put an arm around Gerard’s shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze, making Gerard hum happily and snuggle closer to his chest. It was warm and safe and so, so gentle. 

It was an affection Gerard had never gotten from anyone else. 

Frank had long ago surrendered the Master-Slave paperwork over to the police, but he didn’t need disturbing documents to keep Gerard’s love. 

Frank had come to own him the day he’d cried in pity, when Gerard had cried because the pain he was in that his former master had so long neglected overwhelmed him. No one had cried for him before that moment. Not even the other slaves. The moment Frank showed pity, Gerard loved him. 

But love didn’t block out nightmares…


	34. Chapter 34

_Chapter 34_

Frank made sure to hold Gerard tight when he woke up screaming. Part of the gesture was to make Gerard feel safe, the other half was to keep Gerard from hitting him as he tore his way out of his nightmare.

Gerard kept screaming, over and over, and clawed at Frank’s hands, refusing to open his eyes and accept that it was a dream and that it had ended. 

“No!” He cried, no matter how many times Frank told him he was safe and awake. “No! No, no! _Please!_ Please, _no!_ ” Eventually, Gerard’s strength gave out and he just cried into Frank’s chest. 

Frank shushed him and kissed the top of his head, trying to comfort him through the aftershocks. He muttered that Gerard was safe and no one was going to hurt him anymore. He whispered that Gerard was pretty and beautiful and sweet and handsome, and that he loved him and adored him very much.

Frank said every sweet thing that came to mind and Gerard still continued weeping. After about half an hour, Gerard finally start to warm up to the touches. He clutched at Frank’s shirt out of affection rather than fear, but continued to sob into Frank’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Frank cooed.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard choked. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Frank…”

“No, don’t be sorry—it’s okay. You’re okay.” 

Gerard moaned in agony and buried his face in his hands. He wouldn’t say what his nightmare was, but he panicked whenever Frank would shift or move—terrified that Frank was going to leave him. He kept saying that if Frank got up, “he’d get me.” Frank assumed he meant his trainer or his master.

“You’re safe,” Frank said as Gerard cried. It was obvious that he didn’t feel safe. Gerard would _never_ feel safe.

“I didn’t want him,” Gerard cried.

“I know,” Frank whispered.

“No!” Gerard called, pawing at Frank’s chest and then clutching onto his shirt again. “No, you don’t! No, you don’t…”

“What was it, Sweetheart?” Frank asked, stroking Gerard’s hair. “What scared you?”

“No,” Gerard cried, shaking his head. “I was scared!”

“I know, Baby,” Frank said. 

“I didn’t want him to hurt me. Why did he do that?—Why did he hurt me?” Gerard started shaking again and Frank tried to soothe him. It was hard when he didn’t know if his lover was afraid of his master or Adam or some other monster. He didn’t know what to say to make it better.

“What happened?” Frank asked gently.

“I-I was making d-dinner and, and—I-I was just t-trying to s-surprise him and h-he came home mad and h-he started hitting me. I said I was sorry and he ke…he kept hitting me over and over. I tried to make him s-stop, but he said I deserved it. Th-that was when he pushed me into the counter.” Gerard’s cries turned into a scream as he relived the horror once again. “He-he made me take off my clothes and wh-when I asked why he was mad he just…he just—Frank!”

Frank held Gerard tighter and kissed his cheek as he sobbed. Gerard kept trembling, bad memories bringing his spirit to its knees. If he didn’t stop crying, he was going to end up passing out.

“It’s okay. I’ll never hurt you, Sweetheart. I’ll never treat you like that…”

“It hurt so bad,” Gerard cried. “It was the first time he did it like that to me. I thought he loved me—I started to think he really loved me until he did that! He just kept hitting and hi-hitting. Over and over, and he yelled at me! It hurt… I hurt—I’m hurt!”

“No, no—you’re fine. You’re okay—no one’s hurting you.” Frank forced Gerard to sit up on the couch so he could wrap him up in a proper hug. Unable to breathe enough to sob, Gerard just began shouting. He was terrified, honestly frightened to death of a bad memory.

“He kept hitting me,” Gerard cried, clawing at Frank’s back. “I-I tried to make him stop. I begged—I didn’t even fight him, I just laid there against the counter and he…” Gerard moaned and shook his head violently as if it could honestly dispel the horror. “He started raping me and I just told him I was sorry and… I said I was sorry,” Gerard cried. He nuzzled Frank’s neck, as if he were apologizing to him.

“Hush, Sweetheart. It’s okay. He’s not going to do that to you anymore—no one is. Okay? You’re safe.”

“No, I’m not,” Gerard cried. 

Frank sighed and cuddled Gerard as best he could. His boyfriend kept weeping, even after his tears dried up. When he couldn’t cry, he just went through the motions and made the sounds. It was as if he were trying to get something more, but Frank didn’t know what else to do. 

“What can I do?” Frank whispered, kissing Gerard’s cheek. “What can I do, Sweetheart? What’s gonna make you feel better?” At first he was afraid Gerard was going to ask for sex that neither of them really wanted, but Gerard just shook his head.

“I just… I want to feel safe. I want to go to sleep and wake up safe…” Gerard kissed Frank’s neck and burrowed down in his arms again. 

“What can _I_ do to make you feel safe?” Frank asked. 

“I don’t know,” Gerard whispered. “I… I _like_ when you hold me. I, maybe, I just… I don’t know. Sometimes I wish I’d never remembered what happened. I was happier…”

“I know,” Frank said, stroking Gerard’s hair. “It’ll be okay.”

“I don’t want anyone to…to _touch_ me again,” Gerard choked, pressing his head against Frank’s chest firmly. “Like, I want _you,_ but I wish people would _stop_ trying to touch me…”

“What people?” Frank asked, the words making him alert. Gerard made it sound like someone was harassing him and if Frank found out who, that person was going to be missing a few teeth by the time Frank was finished with them…

“At work,” Gerard whispered. “The customers…they touch me—they’ll poke me or grab me to get my attention and it’s scary…”

“Has anyone there hurt you?” Frank asked, rubbing Gerard’s shoulder.

“Well…” Gerard sniffed and pull back from Frank’s arms, pushing back against the couch.

“What?” Frank asked, stroking Gerard’s cheek affectionately. Gerard leaned against the hand and stared at Frank, his eyes unnaturally soft and large. “What, Sweetheart?”

“A guy, one time… Please don’t get mad.”

“I’m not gonna get mad,” Frank said, kissing Gerard’s cheek.

“The guy kept coming in, you know? He… He would ask me for records and I’d check the back and…sometimes I’d find them, you know? We keep the really rare albums in the back and…one time he left his receipt on the counter and he wrote his number on it—but I didn’t call!”

“Okay,” Frank said, smiling and hoping it would help Gerard calm down. Sometimes Frank was prone to jealousy, but at the same time it was flattering to have someone else want what was his. “So he left his number.”

“I… I ignored him and then he came in again, and then I didn’t see him the last time he came in and…he grabbed my butt.” The way Gerard looked when he confessed was almost heartbreaking, but at the same time a little bit funny. He had the same sort of sad gaze he’d get when he would do something wrong…like a scared child. It was still fear, but not of the same type which led him to cry and tremble. He knew he wasn’t actually in trouble, and yet he was embarrassed by it. It was pitiable, but also laughable.

“Did you punch him?” Frank asked, laughing a little so Gerard would know it was okay.

“No… I didn’t really say anything. I just told him we didn’t have any more rare albums. He…he tried to get me to go on a date and kept touching me. Bob finally called me to the back room so I could get away. I had to have hidden in there for about an hour…”

“Aw… If a guy ever gives you trouble, you just call me. I’ll fight him off.” Frank kissed his cheek again and smiled when Gerard giggled. It was quiet and slight, but still better than crying.

“I just hate it when people touch me… People who aren’t you.”

“I’ve gotten used to getting grabbed at work,” Frank mumbled. “I’m the manager; people are always poking me, too.”

“Do girls give you their numbers?” Gerard asked. He was looking away from Frank’s face as he said it, looking ashamed. 

“Sometimes,” Frank said. “The numbers always go to the same place, too. The trash.”

Gerard smiled softly and leaned his head back down onto Frank’s shoulder.

“What about guys?” Gerard asked.

“No guys,” Frank said, sighing softly. “You’re my man—you know that if some dude gave me his number, I’d throw it away.”

Gerard cooed and started to slump back over. When he was lying down again, he held up his arms, trying to coax Frank into lying down beside him. Frank laughed at him and curled up next to him in the same position they’d been in before the bad dreams. 

“Do you just want to sleep on the couch tonight?” Frank asked when a quick glance at the clock showed it was going on midnight.

“No,” Gerard mumbled. “I just want to cuddle for a few more minutes.” Of course, within a few minutes he’d fallen back asleep.

( ) ( ) ( )

Things began to go back to normal after Gerard went back to work. They settled back into their routine, going to work at different times, coming home at different times, and taking turns picking up dinner. For a while, Gerard stayed skittish, jumping whenever Frank would walk up behind him, but by the end of the week, Gerard had calmed back down again. 

When their shared day off came around, Frank was glad to say that the bite and the fight were behind them. 

Frank still wasn’t all that prepared for Gerard to start making passes at him again, but Gerard didn’t cry when he was turned down so Frank took it as a good sign. Of course, on their days off together, Gerard did tend to become…handsy.

“Stop,” Frank said, pushing Gerard’s hands off of his belt for the third time. He was trying to wash dishes, but Gerard just didn’t seem to want to allow that to happen. As soon as Gerard’s hands dropped, he slid them back onto the waist of his jeans again. “Stop,” Frank repeated, keeping his tone as even as he’d had it the first time.

“Frank…”

“Stop,” Frank repeated. 

“Frank, please?”

“Stop,” Frank said, focusing on the dishes. He was a little irritated, but he was far from mad. It was almost a little bit cute because he knew Gerard wasn’t going to become angry. In his own way, Gerard was just being playful.

“Frankie?” This time, Gerard was sliding his hands up the back of Frank’s shirt.

“No,” Frank said in a sing-song voice. 

Gerard let out a cat-like moan of protest and finally backed away.

“Why are you so horny?” Frank asked. 

“Because you’re so _cute,_ ” Gerard said, sitting down heavily on the kitchen floor. He completely ignored the table and chairs not a foot away from him…

“Our dogs are cute and you don’t want to sleep with them,” Frank said.

“I’m not into dogs,” Gerard mumbled. “But I can be your puppy if you’re into that kind of thing.”

“No thanks,” Frank said, looking over his shoulder and giving Gerard a smile so he’d know he wasn’t trying to be mean.

“Please?” Gerard asked, his tone still more playful than serious. If he kept it up, Frank was probably going to give in. 

“Why are you so… You’re being cute, come here,” Frank said, shutting off the sink and turning around. Rather than walking, Gerard started crawling across the floor on all fours. He locked his eyes with Frank’s as if trying to be seductive, and then started wagging his hips in a seductive little sway back and forth. “Stop,” Frank said, laughing and shaking his head. “What are you doing?”

Gerard hummed and then started crawling up Frank’s body once he reached him. “Nothing,” he said as he finally got his feet under him and started to stand. He kissed Frank’s neck and then finally pulled him into a hug.

“You know I’m not in the mood,” Frank said, contradicting himself when he started rubbing Gerard’s hips.

“Frankie,” Gerard moaned, rutting his forehead against Frank’s shoulder.

“I really don’t want to,” Frank whispered. 

“Can you…for me?” Gerard asked, nuzzling Frank’s neck. Frank sighed and patted Gerard’s shoulder, trying to keep the cheer even though he was starting to feel the pressure.

“I’m tired,” Frank mumbled. Gerard grunted and pushed his hips against Frank’s. “Baby…”

“Can I just…” Gerard finished his sentence by rutting against Frank’s leg. As soon as he had a little bit of friction, Gerard started to moan.

“Just gonna hump my leg?” Frank asked, laughing. He raised his eyebrow in amusement and shook his head. 

“Yeah,” Gerard said, rubbing against him a little more firmly. “Please?”

“If…if that’s what it takes for you to feel better then…okay,” Frank said, laughing as planted a gentle kiss on Gerard’s lips. His boyfriend whimpered and then started grinding against his thigh. 

It took everything Frank had in him not to burst out laughing—Frank really just couldn’t believe it. Never in his wildest dreams had he envisioned Gerard _humping his leg_ in the kitchen of their house.

And it really didn’t take Gerard long at all before he started digging his nails into Frank’s hips. His little moans became more and more shrill until finally, his voice broke and his hips stilled—pressed far too firmly against the inside of Frank’s thigh.

“Feel better?” Frank asked when Gerard dropped down onto the floor. Gerard nodded his head and kept panting. “And you couldn’t go jerk off in the bathroom because…?”

“I wanted to be with you,” Gerard said, looking up at Frank almost innocently. 

“Aw, that would be cute, but you need to go change your pants. I’m making lunch.” Frank turned around and returned to washing dishes. 

“Are you mad?” Gerard asked. He sounded like he might cry and Frank just shook his head.

“No, Sweetheart. You’re cute—go change your pants.”

Gerard growled at him, literally like some kind of animal, and Frank finally turned away from the sink.

“What?”

“Frank…”

“Do you want _me_ to change your pants?” Frank asked, washing a cup while looking at Gerard in humored surprise.

“Yes…”

“No,” Frank said, shaking his head. “You’re being silly.”

“Frank.”

“No, Gerard,” Frank said. He couldn’t help but laugh when Gerard started hugging him around the waist again and nuzzled his neck. “What?”

“Please?”

“No… Go change your own pants.”

Gerard left the kitchen, groaning deep in his throat, but was back within a matter of seconds. Frank turned to look at him and then bust out laughing. Gerard came back without pants…or underwear…and was acting as though nothing were amiss. 

“Baby… _Pants._ ” Frank said.

“No pants—come to bed. Come cuddle with me.”

“You just want me to sleep with you,” Frank said. “No.”

“Please?”

“You’re already finished,” Frank said, shuddering at the sight of the shiny film of cum that was starting to run down Gerard’s thigh. He turned back to the sink and continued with the dishes. 

“You’re not,” Gerard said.

“I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

Frank shook his head and laughed. There was a difference between Gerard pushing out of desperation and need and Gerard pushing to please. It reminded Frank of how they used to be the second time they were together. Gerard would be spontaneous and playful—very insistent but only out of the goodness of his heart. 

He was satisfied, now he wanted Frank to be taken care of as well. 

“Gerard, I’m not in the mood.”

“Please?”

“Go…” Frank turned off the sink and looked around at the counter. He wanted to make a joke but couldn’t think of anything to say. Then his eyes lit upon a small bunch of bananas that were starting to brown with age. Gerard narrowed his eyes when he caught Frank looking at them and then rolled his eyes when one of the bananas was thrust into his hand. “Go suck on this—it’ll be the same. Then you can eat it and spoil your appetite for the _lunch I’m going to make._ ”

“Do I have to?” Gerard asked, sounding as if he were considering it.

“No…”

“Do you want me to?”

“No,” Frank said, shaking his head.

“You can come play with the banana with me,” Gerard said, a slight pep in his tone, almost like he wanted it. But Frank knew better than probably anyone else how afraid Gerard was of having non-human objects put into his body.

“Do you really want me to put that piece of fruit up your ass?” Frank asked, eyeing Gerard who looked doubtful. “Didn’t think so.”

“That would be a bad idea,” Gerard said, his face dropping as he pushed the banana back into Frank’s hand. Frank could tell he was starting to slip, remembering something frightening and painful, so grabbed Gerard’s hand and held it against his cheek.

“You’ll be okay,” Frank said softly. “I just don’t want to today.”

“Okay,” Gerard whispered, closing the distance between them and kissing Frank’s cheek.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Frank added when he heard Gerard sniff. He wasn’t going to cry, but his emotions were starting to get the best of him.

“I know,” Gerard whispered, nuzzling Frank’s neck. They stayed that way for a few minutes before Gerard finally pulled back and disappeared into the bedroom. Frank took his chance to finish the dishes and when he was setting up a pan to boil water to make lunch, Gerard returned to the kitchen with his pants back on. “What are you making?”

Once again, Gerard wrapped his hands around Frank’s waist as he tried to work, this time at boiling pasta.

“Spaghetti. Sound good to you?” Frank asked, keeping his tone gentle so Gerard wouldn’t get scared.

“Yeah,” Gerard said, letting Frank go when he had to go to the fridge for more ingredients. “Frank?”

“Hm?” 

“I want us to stay like this,” Gerard said, his tone gentle. When Frank looked up from the boiling pan on the stove, Gerard turned away as if not wanting to be seen.

“We will,” Frank said, smiling even though Gerard wasn’t looking. He knew what Gerard was afraid of. He was scared of relapsing and afraid of making mistakes that would put what they had in jeopardy. But, in Frank’s opinion, the very worst that could ever be done had already been done. There was _nothing_ Gerard could do to make him leave…except ask him. And even if Gerard did come home one day and tell Frank he wanted to move out and see someone else, Frank would fight him the whole way. Gerard was _his,_ and he was Gerard’s. 

It had to stay that way. Nothing else made sense.

“Do you mean that?” Gerard asked.

“Mean what?” Frank asked. He’d turned his focus back to the slowly cooking noodles, but was quick to catch the sadness in his boyfriend’s voice.

“That we’ll stay like this?”

“Yeah,” Frank said. “No matter what.”

“I have a secret.” Gerard sighed when he said it, as if in relief. It made Frank nervous because it wasn’t a normal thing. It was as if a weight had been lifted, and all Gerard had done was reveal that he had a secret he was keeping secret…

“What?” Frank asked, stopping his efforts to heat up a red sauce in a skillet. 

“A secret,” Gerard mumbled. He was staring at the floor, revealing that it was something he was ashamed of. 

“I heard that part,” Frank said. “What…what kind of a secret?”

“An old one,” Gerard whispered. His voice got softer and softer as he spoke, as if he were suddenly changing his mind about revealing it. 

“How old?”

“The second time we were together,” Gerard said, shrugging.

“Okay,” Frank said. “That’s a long time to keep a secret—did something happen to you?” Frank asked. He had a feeling it didn’t have to do with another attack. If Gerard had gotten jumped or robbed or raped back then, Frank would’ve known. He would’ve seen it. If not then, it would’ve come back in the form of a nightmare. 

“Not really,” Gerard said. He looked up at Frank quickly and then shuddered before turning away. It was a reaction Frank had never gotten before, and it set off alarms in his brain. 

“Gerard, whatever it is, you can tell me. It was years ago. It’s not going to change anything now. And if…if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine too. You can have secrets… _I_ have secrets.”

“What’s your secret?” Gerard asked. He looked offended, as if mortified that Frank would ever hold anything back. It was little hypocritical…

“Like…” Frank thought for a moment, trying to figure out the right thing to say. He had lots of secrets. Things he didn’t say because he didn’t want Gerard to get hurt or to worry. “Like that my dad doesn’t know we’re dating—I’ve never told him that I’m seeing anyone because he hates that I’m gay more than my mom does. And that’s why you’ve never met him.”

“Oh,” Gerard said. He sounded relieved, as if believing that was the only secret Frank had. 

“What did you want to tell me?” Frank asked, keeping his tone gentle.

“I… When we together that time,” Gerard said before taking a deep breath. “Um… I-I just want to tell you because I… Mikey told me you were talking to Ray about wanting me to go back to work in the art industry.”

That was his secret? That he knew Frank had been sort of, kind of gossiping about him with Ray?

“I just… You liked that job,” Frank said. “You said your boss told you that you could take your job back whenever you started feeling better no matter how long it took. You _liked_ it there.” Frank returned to making the pasta sauce, not wanting the noodles to overcook. 

“Frank, please…” 

“What?” Frank asked, dishing to noodles into the sauce pan and mixing them in so the noodles could absorb the flavor.

“I won’t take that job back, Frank,” Gerard said. He sounded like he was about to cry and Frank was quick to turn off the burners of the stove so he could give Gerard his attention before he had a breakdown from being ignored.

“Why not? Is it because of the city?” Frank asked, trying to show his concern as best he could. Gerard kept blinking as if he were going to start crying and Frank felt like more was coming. More he didn’t want to know.

“Frank… I—My _boss…_ ”

“What? Was he harassing you? What’s wrong?” Frank tried to reach for Gerard’s hand, but he backed away. “Gerard.”

“Before we got together that time, you know… When I didn’t remember anything, I couldn’t find a job. I had a bad past, no work experience, barely any internships… My boss hired me be-because I slept with him.” Gerard held his breath once the words were out, and although it made Frank uncomfortable, it really wasn’t so bad. Gerard slept with a lot of guys before Frank found him again. 

“That doesn’t change how I look at you,” Frank said softly. “Sweetheart, you… You don’t have to work for that guy to be in your industry. You loved art—I just want you to do what makes you happy and—”

“I didn’t _stop_ sleeping with him,” Gerard said.

“What?” Frank felt it like a knife in the pit of his stomach. All he could think besides betrayal was _oh…_ Because now things were fitting into place. Old things. Things he’d mostly forgotten. Like how Gerard used to shy away from him on certain days when they’d gotten back together that second time. Frank always thought it was underlying memories, but really it was because he’d been… No. It wasn’t possible.

“That’s… That’s how I kept my job,” Gerard said, a tear finally making its way down his cheek. “I didn’t want to. I just…”

“You… But you _stopped,_ ” Frank said. He didn’t want to accept it. Maybe at the start Gerard had trouble acclimating to a monogamous relationship after being with so many different guys… But just at the start. “You stopped when we were together.”

Gerard looked up and met Frank’s gaze. Slowly, he shook his head.

“I stopped when… I stopped when the memories came back. I couldn’t sleep with you and I _loved you._ I couldn’t bear to have him touch me.”

“We were together for two years before you remembered!” Frank snapped. He tried to convince himself that he wasn’t mad, but it didn’t work.

“Frank, I… I don’t know,” Gerard whispered. 

“How often did you fuck this guy?” Frank asked. Gerard shook his head and Frank just asked him again. “How often, Gerard?”

“Once a month. He told me he’d fire me if I didn’t and…” Gerard started crying and wrapped his arms around his chest the way he always did when he tried to protect himself. “I told him I didn’t want to anymore when we started dating. He said if he didn’t get what he wanted I’d get fired and I didn’t want to lose my job after I’d just started dating you. I thought you’d think I was a bum or something—like you’d think I quit on _purpose._ I didn’t know!”

“You didn’t know that I would rather have you quit your job than cheat on me?” Frank asked. He tried to understand, and he knew it made sense. Gerard was never strong willed and his asshole of a boss had known it back then, too. He probably sensed that Gerard was easy and desperate and used it to his advantage. 

“If I knew who you were I would’ve known I could quit. I was scared that if I quit I wouldn’t get another job and you’d dump me. Please, Frank… It was a long time ago.”

“Why did you have to tell me?” Frank asked, turning back to the lunch he was making just so he wouldn’t start yelling. “It was that long ago… Why bring it up? I didn’t need to know.”

“Because it hurts me,” Gerard whispered. 

“Well it hurts me too!” Frank snapped. “God… Did you sleep with anyone else when we were together? The mailman, maybe? So he’d always remember to bring our mail?”

Gerard let out a cry of pain and Frank heard him sink down onto the floor.

“You didn’t have to tell me, you know? Some things are better off as secrets, Gerard.”

“I wanted you to know,” Gerard whispered, sniffing loudly as he tried not to cry.

It wouldn’t have hurt so much if Frank didn’t understand _why_ it happened. It made him feel guilty, because if he’d just told Gerard the truth about who he was, Gerard wouldn’t have felt so terrified of losing what they had. If Gerard knew Frank couldn’t leave him for anything, he wouldn’t have had to cheat. It was like the whole prostitution thing all over again.

He sold himself for money to pay for an education Mikey didn’t want, and he traded his body for a job he didn’t need to have. 

It made Frank sick because it was what Gerard was _trained_ to do, and it pissed him off that Gerard did it so well. Gerard did it without a second thought. 

It really made Frank wonder if Adam had really raped him at all… Or had he just come in, smashed a few things, and then told Gerard that if he slept with him, he’d leave him alone forever. If he asked it just like that, Gerard would’ve said yes. 

But Frank knew better than to bring it up.

“Your lunch is ready,” Frank mumbled, trying to put on a front of calmness to keep from screaming. He _knew_ why Gerard had done it, but he wished he’d just kept quiet about it.

“I’m not hungry,” Gerard whispered.

Frank couldn’t take it… He just snapped. When it was over, he wished he hadn’t, but at the moment, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Just eat your _fucking_ lunch!” He’d shouted. With no level-headed thought, he grabbed the pan off the stove top and slammed it down on the floor. He hadn’t intended for it to fall as close to Gerard as it had, and he forgot how hot food off of the stove really was until Gerard screamed and fumbled backwards on the floor when a large glob of the sauce splashed up from the floor and spattered against his hand and face. 

Their kitchen floor looked like a bloodbath, and that was what brought Frank out of it. He _knew_ better than to act that way around Gerard. If he yelled—if he lost his temper—it was real blood that ended up on their floors, no matter how deserving Gerard was of the rage. Gerard couldn’t handle anger—he hadn’t been trained to cope with it. 

But as it was, Frank couldn’t fix it… He didn’t have any sweet words left in him that would sound genuine now. He could apologize, but the moment his back was turned Gerard was going to snap—either with sorrow or rage.

“I’m going out,” Frank said, trying not to wince when he saw the reddened skin of Gerard’s hand when he frantically tried to wipe the burning sauce away. “Clean this up before I get home—I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Frank—”

“I’m going out,” Frank repeated. He didn’t bother to wipe the sauce off of his jeans before leaving the kitchen. He grabbed his wallet and keys off of the coffee table in the living room and left. As soon as the front door was closed, he heard Gerard start sobbing—sounding like someone had just stabbed him when, really, Frank had just broken his heart and then _burned him._

Mikey was honestly going to kill him this time…

( ) ( ) ( )

“You _can’t_ just say stuff like that,” Mikey said, trying to keep his brother calm as he drove over to his and Frank’s house. Gerard had called him in a fit of hysterics, and the only thing Mikey had been able to make out was ‘Frank.’

At first he’d thought Frank had been killed in an accident, because after ‘Frank’ he’d heard ‘gone.’ But after hyperventilating and then throwing up—with Mikey still on the line—Gerard finally calmed down enough to make sense. By that time, Mikey was already in his car because he knew if Gerard was calling him it was as close to an emergency as it could get.

Gerard called when he was terrified, and most of the time that terror went along with harm. 

“I didn’t—I didn’t _know._ ” Gerard kept saying he didn’t know, but never clarified. Didn’t know Frank would get mad? Didn’t know he shouldn’t have said it? Didn’t know that cheating hurt people’s feelings?

Mikey pulled into the driveway of Gerard’s house and tried to keep his brother calm as he turned off his car and started for the front door. He didn’t hang up until he was already inside, the front door left unlocked, because he was afraid that if he let Gerard out of earshot for a second, he’d kill himself that fast.

“What the fuck happened to your face?” Mikey asked. Gerard had a pale red mark across his chin that ran down the side of his neck. It didn’t look bad in terms of injury, but it wasn’t exactly unnoticeable either. “What the fuck happened to your _floor?_ ” Mikey let himself into the house and walked past Gerard into the kitchen as his brother still struggled to end the call on his cell phone. 

There was a skillet and a massive amount of pasta and sauce spilled on the tiles. It looked like someone had been shot—all the red looking like blood.

“Did he fuckin’ throw a skillet at you?” Mikey asked, looking at Gerard who not only had a burn on his face, but also on the back of his right hand. The one on his hand looked by far the worst.

“Not at me,” Gerard said. He still had sauce on his shirt and his jeans, but Mikey didn’t refuse it when his brother moved in to hug him. His white shirt would be forever stained, but he’d rather have a ruined shirt than a ruined conscience. Touch mattered to Gerard. Refusing a hug when he was desperate for affection was about the same as slapping him in the face.

“Okay… Okay—let me clean this up. You… Go sit on the counter. Tell me what happened.” When Gerard refused, Mikey stared at him blankly until he obeyed. He didn’t need to threaten Gerard, but if he had to he would pick him up and _set_ him on the counter. Up there he wasn’t going to fall in the sauce, and he wasn’t going to slit his wrists or drown himself either.

Gerard stammered out his story again—about how he was tired of keeping this secret and how hard it all really was on him to lie to Frank when Frank was so open—and Mikey cleaned up the floor. He had to fight the urge to put the pan into the oven and heat it up to about five hundred degrees, though. He wanted that pan hot, and he wanted to hit Frank in the face with it and see how he liked it…

But that would just upset Gerard even more.

“Gerard, you can’t just say things like that,” Mikey said. “Frank shouldn’t have thrown a baby, temper tantrum, but he was hurt, you know?”

“I know,” Gerard cried. “I just wanted to be honest…”

“Are you sure?” Mikey asked, remembering all too well the day he’d gotten Frank to break his nose. 

“What are you saying?” Gerard asked, sounding devastated, but he was _known_ to be cruel. He didn’t have the right to act like he wasn’t malicious when his feelings were hurt.

“That maybe Frank upset you so you wanted to hurt him back. Maybe you expected him to cry instead of throw shit at you, but you successfully made him feel bad, and now he’ll come home and be apologetic. Are you sure that’s not what you were trying to get?”

Gerard said nothing. Absolutely nothing after that. He stopped crying and his face went mannequin blank. 

Mikey had a feeling he’d guessed correctly.

Sometimes it was as if there were two Gerards. One that felt bad for everything and loved everyone. Then there was another that hated everyone and wanted to watch the world burn. 

Mikey believed that Gerard was devastated after seeing how badly he’d hurt Frank with what he’d said. He also believed that some dark part of Gerard’s mind convinced him to do it. Mikey had known about Gerard’s fucking pervert of a boss from day one. He would’ve warned Frank, but he hadn’t expected it to last. After the first year, it was one of those “better if you don’t know” kind of things. 

After the relapse it all went away. It should’ve disappeared, but Gerard acted as though it were a weapon kept in his arsenal. 

“What did Frank do that made you upset?” Mikey asked when the kitchen was finally clean.

Gerard said nothing and kept his face perfectly still. His lips were pursed as if he were actually getting angry, and Mikey just shook his head.

“Gerard…”

“Told me to fucking have sex with a fucking piece of fucking fruit,” Gerard muttered, lips curling in anger. “He _knows_ what those people did to me! I went to that…that fucking perverted sex store and I saw all those…those _things_ and I came home sick. I was fucking sick from just seeing it because of all the bad memories, and then he goes and says that. He even _thought_ about it, but said it anyway!”

“He… What?” Mikey barely caught half of what Gerard said. Frank told him to… 

Was that really all it took to get Gerard to snap?

“He said it to hurt me!” Gerard confessed, looking at Mikey in desperation. “He _knew_ it would hurt me. That’s why he said it—to _hurt_ me. He _knows_ he’s the only one left that can actually make me feel _horrible,_ and he does!”

“Why would he want to hurt you?” Mikey asked, keeping his voice gentle so Gerard wouldn’t snap at him.

“Because…” Gerard didn’t have an answer. He was paranoid and defensive. Hostile. 

“Gerard, he…he made a mistake.”

“And I made a mistake and he threw a pan off the stove at me and burnt me.”

“You bit him…”

“I didn’t mean to!” Gerard cried. That time, his face actually looked remorseful. So that had been an accident, but this wasn’t. Gerard didn’t ever _hurt_ Frank on purpose. Instead, he settled for ripping at his heart, even at his own expense.

A broken nose, a burnt face…he would really stop at nothing to make Frank suffer when he was hurt. Absolutely nothing…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the violence--I promise that it could, possibly, maybe, might get more friendly from here.


	35. Chapter 35

_Chapter 35_

Frank felt his stomach twist even tighter when he spotted Mikey’s car in his driveway. He knew Mikey would be there, but it was a confrontation he was praying that he would be able to avoid.

He was _sorry_ for losing his temper, and he’d apologize for making the mess and burning Gerard’s face. But he wasn’t going to bow down and act like nothing happened. Gerard should’ve known better.

He’d kept it a secret for so long, why had he decided to just bring it up out of the blue?

Frank took a deep breath as he stepped through the front door. He heard his dogs start barking and was relieved to know that they hadn’t suffered from any trauma… They were skittish enough as it was.

But Gerard was sitting on the couch with Mikey, looking both sad and pissed off in the same instant, and Mikey just looked…numb.

Frank didn’t know what to say. He closed the door and both brothers just stared at him. Gerard wasn’t talking, Mikey wasn’t yelling… It was freakishly quiet and unsettling. 

“Gerard, I… I overreacted and I’m sorry,” Frank said, nodding slightly. “I didn’t mean to…to throw a pan at your head and burn you. I really didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“I know,” Gerard said. He looked over at Mikey and mumbled something—probably asking him to leave because Mikey stood up from the couch and started for the door. Frank was quick to move out of his way, but Mikey didn’t miss the opportunity to slam into his with his shoulder on his way out.

“How bad are you burnt?” Frank asked when Mikey slammed the door closed. 

“It’ll heal,” Gerard mumbled. 

“I know it’ll heal, but how bad does it hurt?” Frank asked. 

Gerard shrugged and touched his fingertips to the burn on his cheek. “It’s like a sunburn,” he said.

“That was stupid of me,” Frank said, looking down at the floor instead of the large red mark that went all of the way down to his neck. First he broke his nose, then he burnt his face—it was like he was trying to make Gerard lose the one feature that gave him self-confidence. Gerard knew he was pretty, and Frank felt like he was taking it away. “I’m really sorry.”

“Mikey says that…I should tell you that I made you mad on purpose,” Gerard said, sounding as emotionless as a machine. 

“On purpose?” Frank asked. “Like the…the last time?” He remembered being tricked into breaking Gerard’s nose, but there was no way Gerard knew he could get him to throw a pan of hot food. It wasn’t possible.

“You said…that thing you said and I got mad. I wanted…” Gerard sighed heavily and turned his face away to look at the wall. “I wanted you to hurt, too, because it wasn’t fair.”

“What did I say?” Frank asked, starting to feel defensive even though he knew it was no good. Part of him wanted to get hopeful that Gerard had been lying—that this whole affair with his boss was nothing but a product of his imagination—but he knew better. If Gerard said it, it was true.

“The whole…banana thing,” Gerard mumbled. 

“It was a _joke,_ ” Frank said.

“It hurt,” Gerard said.

“I’m sorry,” Frank whispered. “I really didn’t mean for it to hurt you.”

Gerard didn’t answer and Frank stood by the door wringing his hands.

“Can I…can I make it up to you?” Frank asked quietly. 

“No,” Gerard mumbled. “It’s not fair.”

“What’s not?” 

“That you’re the only one left…”

“What do you mean?” Frank asked, taking Gerard soft tone as inviting. He crept closer to the couch and was eventually able to sit down next to Gerard, even though his boyfriend shifted away from him at first.

“You’re the only one left who can hurt me…and you do.”

“Gerard, I never _mean_ to hurt you. Sometimes I don’t think things through right… I’m not the smartest guy in the word, but I _do_ love you.”

“I love you too,” Gerard whispered. He pulled his knees up to his chest on the couch and rested his head against them, looking tired and wounded. 

“I really want to make it up to you,” Frank said.

“It’s over now. It doesn’t matter,” Gerard said, shrugging. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I mean, if you just wanted me to know…it still doesn’t change the way I look at you. I’m sorry you thought you had to go through that to stay with me. I can’t even…begin to _imagine_ what it felt like for you to have to go to the guy when you were having those nightmares. I mean…you went back to work after the first relapse, but you were still upset by it. Did you…did you sleep with him then? Because your nightmares were so awful and you could barely even talk…”

“Of course I did,” Gerard mumbled. “If I worked, it meant I slept with him…but I cried the whole time. It was always terrible. It probably brought back the memories, too. I never liked being with him, but I never felt guilty until we were dating. I really did ask him to stop.”

“I know,” Frank said, sighing. It was painful to think about—and _hard_ to sympathize even knowing the truth and the facts—that Gerard made himself sleep with some stranger when he couldn’t even bear to be touched by his own boyfriend. Frank still remembered the night Gerard had cried just from the touches—how he started gagging and sobbing. He’d stopped for Gerard. Would his boss have stopped if that happened? Did Gerard start having anxiety attacks with him?

“I wouldn’t sleep with you both on the same day…”

“That’s…that’s good I guess,” Frank said, sighing heavily. He didn’t want to say it, but he couldn’t help but think, if it had happened before—if he’d cheated before—would it happen again?

“I…I always made him use protection.”

“That’s good, at least,” Frank mumbled. He wasn’t worried about diseases. After the rape, Gerard had gotten tested again and had come back clean. He really had the most impressive luck, to prostitute himself, trade himself, and get himself raped without coming away tainted…

“I mean it when I say I don’t want that job back,” Gerard mumbled.

“Okay,” Frank said. “I hope not.”

“Frank, I’m really sorry,” Gerard said. Slowly, Gerard leaned over and pressed his head against Frank’s shoulder. At first, Frank wanted to pull away. He didn’t want Gerard touching him, but he knew it didn’t do them any good to show his anger. It was in the past, Gerard was sorry—kind of—and nothing was going to change it. 

“I love you,” Frank said. It was a little forced, but it was still true. He loved Gerard, he just didn’t like him at the moment…

( ) ( ) ( )

On the day Gerard had off, roughly four days after the fight, he spent the entire day cleaning the house. He dusted, he mopped, he swept, he vacuumed… He cleaned dishes, washed the sinks, washed the shower and tub and cleaned the exhaust vent of dust. He did laundry, he folded clothes, he added a fresh air freshener to the closet so their clothes would stop smelling stale. He cleaned up after the dogs, he worked on getting a stain out of the paint on the wall—but failed in his attempt. 

He picked up _everything._ Alphabetized tapes and CDs and movies… He cleaned everything—everything! Behind furniture, under furniture, in the backs of the cupboards. He did everything to show Frank when he got home how sorry he was, and how much Frank meant to him.

Gerard even started making some dinner—he got the really high-end vegan meat from the specialty store, he purchased the fancy bread that cost eight dollars a loaf without explaining why, and even bought a vegan recipe book just so he could make more surprises later…

But after everything was done—all the food ready and waiting—Frank still wasn’t home. Dinner was finished an hour after Frank _should’ve_ been home.

Gerard sent him texts, he tried calling, but got nothing… Frank didn’t pick up, he didn’t reply. Gerard called Ray to ask if he’d seen him and Ray said no.

At first, Gerard was worried that Frank had gone out of his way to pick up dinner. Frank would feel bad if he bought dinner when Gerard had a surprise waiting…but two hours after Frank’s shift ended and he still wasn’t home, Gerard knew he wasn’t out buying dinner.

Gerard was so anxious. He kept wondering, ‘what if he got in an accident?’ and ‘what if he’s with someone else?’ 

He kept trying and trying to get Frank answer his cell, but Frank didn’t pick up. Gerard wanted to cry, but he was afraid that if he started sobbing Frank would come home, see him, and get mad.

Two hours turned to three…then it was pitch black out and five hours had passed. 

Gerard went back into the kitchen and reluctantly boxed up the food he’d made into Tupperware and tossed it into the fridge. He cleaned the dishes he’d set out, dried them and put them away… Still no Frank.

Gerard finally started crying when the only thing left for him to do was go to bed. Frank had been gone long enough to work two shifts and never answered a single text or call. Gerard started turning off the lights and was ushering the dogs into the bedroom when finally—after waiting for over seven hours—the front door was unlocked.

Quickly, Gerard turned away from the bedroom and stepped into the living room. Frank was slowly closing the door in the dark, and he jumped when Gerard turned the light on.

“Frank…” Gerard didn’t know what to say or what to ask. Frank didn’t have his work shirt on, and he was holding his tie in his hands. 

“I need to talk to you,” Frank said, his voice frighteningly low and calm. 

“Frank?” Gerard asked, stepping cautiously closer. He was afraid of what Frank would say… He was wearing a different shirt. He’d been gone for seven hours. 

“Just…Gerard, you need to go sit on the couch. I need to talk to you.” Frank walked past Gerard and went into the bedroom. He closed the door and Gerard wrung his hands helplessly as he went to sit down on the couch.

All day… He’d spent all day cleaning and perfecting their house only to have Frank come home smelling of someone else.

After about ten minutes, Frank came back out of the bedroom wearing one of his own shirts and different pair of pants. 

“Baby?” Gerard said, his voice cracking as Frank came over and sat down beside him. He left too much space between them and Gerard almost started gagging he was so sure what was about to happen.

“I need you to…to just be calm, okay?” Frank said, his voice emotionless and still too soft. 

“Frank, you’re scaring me,” Gerard cried. He started chewing his lip in a desperate attempt to keep from sobbing even though he’d started to cry before Frank even got home.

“Just…be calm, Gerard,” Frank said.

“I can’t,” Gerard whimpered. “Why were you gone for so long? I tried to call you!”

Frank took a deep breath and Gerard started breaking. It was taking all of his effort to not fall to the floor in hysterics. He hated this suspense—he hated the pain he was feeling. He’d worked _so hard_ to give Frank a good evening and it had all been ruined… And possibly ruined forever. 

“My… Um, this is hard to talk about. I’m still kind of…” Frank started staring at the wall. He looked out of it. As if he were drugged or just that depressed. 

“Frank, please,” Gerard cried. Frank sighed and shook his head. He started staring at the floor and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“My, um… My diner was held up today,” Frank said, nodding once the words were out.

“Wh-what?” Gerard asked, not understanding at all. He’d been waiting to hear the name of some other person—some woman or man who came in and looked nice.

“A guy came in and… It was like—like a movie. I’m still not sure if I’m dreaming or not.”

“You’re not fucking dreaming!” Gerard cried. “What the hell happened?” Now he wasn’t angry, he was terrified. 

“Um… The guy just… I was finishing up my shift and he came in and…” Frank went quiet again and just stared at the wall.

“Baby?” Gerard pressed. 

“He…he had a gun and he shot at me. My… My staff got out, but… I don’t remember,” Frank mumbled, shaking his head.

“He shot you?” Gerard asked, feeling a sharp pain rip at his chest. “You got shot?—He _shot_ you?”

“No,” Frank said, staring to sound more alert and less confused. “No… He—I gave him what was in the register but he got… He got really insistent and wanted what we had in the back and… Because we have the—the safe back there and he… I had a gun to my head. Gerard, I… I had a gun to my _head._ ” Frank started breathing heavily, the shock wearing off and he was starting to panic. “A _gun!_ Gerard, he… I couldn’t remember the combination to the safe. I didn’t remember it… And, my staff called the cops and he heard them pull up and…”

Gerard reached over and placed his hand carefully on Frank’s knee, wanting to touch him and feel him and let him know that he was safe and that it was over. He wanted to give Frank a sliver of the comfort Frank had always offered him.

“I… He had me and…when the cops showed up he grabbed me and it was like a movie. I was a hostage?” He said it like a question, still trying to sort it out. “I got stabbed at some point.”

“He stabbed you?” Gerard squeaked, squeezing Frank’s knee.

“Yeah, I had… I went to the hospital today.”

“Frank… Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

“I don’t know where my phone is,” Frank said, shaking his head. “I thought I was gonna die. I almost died.”

“How…did you get out?” Gerard asked, trying not to think about Frank being dead. He felt sick. He’d been worried about Frank cheating when Frank was being threatened. 

“Um… A cop shot him?” Frank said, questioning again. “I was…I was trying to work the safe and… There was blood on me—I was bleeding. I guess he stabbed me…maybe I fell on something? I was at the safe and the gun was on my head and…There were two shot and one…one went by my shoulder and the other hit him.”

“You…you can’t go in tomorrow. I… You’re not going in tomorrow!” Gerard said. All he could think was that his lover had almost died and he’d been upset about boxing up dinner.

“I was told…to take the week off. And come in…the week after next? I… I got stabbed. He stabbed me!” Frank scooted back on the couch and placed his hand carefully over Gerard’s. “I thought I was dead.”

“How long did he keep you?” Gerard asked. 

“I don’t know,” Frank said. “I’m…I don’t even know what time it is. You were going to bed?”

“I…I thought you were out,” Gerard whispered, ashamed.

“I’m sorry… I’m…I’m hungry.”

“I made dinner,” Gerard said quickly, getting up from the couch. “I’ll heat it up for you—I’ll take care of it.”

“Okay,” Frank said, lying down across the couch once Gerard had stood up. “I’m…I’m not sleeping.”

“It’s okay,” Gerard said, touching Frank’s shoulder. He didn’t want to let him out of his sight long enough to heat up his dinner. He wanted to make sure no one broke in and took him while his back was turned. Frank was scared, but Gerard was scared too. He loved Frank… To think he was about to lose him and not even _know_ that it had happened was torture. 

He would’ve cried himself to sleep thinking Frank was with some other guy while Frank died. 

Died…

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank didn’t remember eating. Didn’t remember getting into bed. He was still doped from the hospital medication, and probably shouldn’t have been allowed to drive himself home… 

Apparently, he’d eaten. Gerard cleaned up the dishes. He was taken to bed, and that was where Frank found himself. From the hospital to his own bedroom. 

He remembered being afraid Gerard would try something—say something mean or go into hysterics to bring the attention back to his own feelings. But apparently Gerard was being good…

Frank was being taken care of like a child and although it was strange, it wasn’t bad. Gerard was being so… Calm. 

The only thing that was wrong was Gerard trying to see the stitches from the stab wound. Frank didn’t want to show him. He didn’t want him to worry or freak out about the thought of needles.

“Please, Frank. I just…I want to see—I want to know it’s okay.”

“I have a bandage,” Frank whispered. He was lying flat on the bed and Gerard was sitting on his hips. It was somehow more affectionate than sexual, but it still gave Frank ideas…

Bad ideas…

“Okay,” Gerard said. “When you…when you shower, please. I just want to see where you’re hurt.”

Frank didn’t want to tell him he’d been stabbed in the gut. Frank was supposed to have stayed in the hospital, but he’d wanted to go home. He’d fought to go home and was told to come back within twenty-four hours. He just didn’t want Gerard to worry…

“Hey,” Frank murmured, looking up at Gerard who was staying so calm…

“What?” Gerard asked, stroking Frank’s cheek the way Frank always did for him when he had nightmares. Frank was happy to know that he’d taught Gerard how to show affection the right way.

“You’re… You’re really pretty,” Frank said, looking up at Gerard and sighing. 

“Yeah? Well, you’re handsome so we work out well,” Gerard said. His composure broke a little and he looked like he was about to sob. Frank frowned. The last thing he wanted was for Gerard to start weeping. 

“I… I want you,” Frank said. Gerard’s face dropped a little, and Frank’s frown deepened. “Gerard, I want you.”

“I can’t,” Gerard said, shaking his head quickly. “I’d cry and then you couldn’t…”

“Come here,” Frank said, reaching up to touch Gerard’s face, letting his fingers trace the fading burn mark. 

Gerard leaned down and let Frank kiss him. He didn’t pull back when Frank made it deeper, and eventually seemed to catch on. He laid his body over Frank’s and let Frank wrap his legs around his waist. 

“I want you,” Frank mumbled. Gerard nodded and started kissing him softly. Frank took off his own shirt, just so Gerard could see the wound and wouldn’t hit it on accident. It was sore despite the meds, and still sensitive even with the bandage. “You’ve…you’ve gotta be careful with me, okay?” Frank said, stroking Gerard’s cheek and sighing. Gerard nodded and kissed him again. It was the first time in a long time that Gerard had shown him sincere affection. He’d been nice before, but not like this. 

This was his love… Sometimes it hid, but Frank felt so relieved knowing it was still there. It was real. Not just something he and Gerard tried to imagine.

Frank was brought out of his thoughts when he felt one of Gerard’s fingers press inside of him. He felt a moment of panic when he didn’t remember taking off his pants or Gerard taking off his clothes…

“Does it hurt?” Gerard asked, sounding so genuine. 

“No,” Frank said, squirming a little. “It feels weird—why does it feel weird?”

“Oh… Um, when I went to that store and…picked up some stuff I got the…it’s a different kind of… Um, here.” 

Frank had a small bottle of lubricant put in his hands and could barely focus on the lettering. He saw blue sparkles on one half of the bottle and then shiny, orange flames on the other. That explained the feeling…

“Is it bad?” Gerard asked, taking his finger out. “I should’ve tried it first—does it hurt?”

Frank sighed and shook his head. 

“It’s…it’s different, not bad,” Frank said. He grunted softly when Gerard slowly pushed the finger back inside. After a few gentle thrusts, Gerard took his hand away and added more lubricant, overdoing it but Frank loved him for the consideration. It was so sweet… He was trying so hard to be as gentle as possible.

When Gerard added the second finger, he was just as gentle as before. He barely moved. He was just trying to be careful. Too careful. But the look of extreme concentration on his face told Frank that he wasn’t trying to drag it out.

After ten minutes, Frank had to coax Gerard into adding the third finger, and Gerard was still reluctant. He was acting so shy… Like he’d never topped before. It was cute.

When Gerard finally lined up, Frank pulled him down for a kiss. Gerard was too slow about—too gentle—but Frank wasn’t going to criticize. Gerard was scared, too. 

“The stuff feels really strange,” Gerard whispered, pressing his forehead into Frank’s shoulder once he’d pushed all of the way inside. 

“It’s not bad,” Frank mumbled, squirming when Gerard stayed still for too long. The lube burned a little, but it wasn’t a bad heat. It just hurt when Gerard didn’t move—it made him anxious. “Come on… I’m okay.”

Gerard pulled out, but only a little, before pushing back in. He moved probably half an inch and Frank would’ve laughed it he weren’t getting desperate. 

He’d almost lost this forever. He wanted to have it back and savor it…

“Sweetheart, I’m okay,” Frank repeated. 

Gerard whimpered softly and started setting up a pace. He kept it gentle, every now and then looking down to make sure his stomach never brushed against the bandage on Frank’s side. 

Frank tried kissing along the underside of Gerard’s chin to see if it would make Gerard let go a little more, but just shivered. He was trying _too_ hard to be nice. It felt like he was trying to avoid giving either of them any pleasure.

“What’s wrong?” Frank asked.

“Feels wrong,” Gerard murmured. “I feel like I’m hurting you.”

“No—No. I want to. Please? It feels good—please?”

Gerard nodded and began to move his hips a little faster. After several missed tries, he finally got the right angle and Frank’s back arched off the bed. The more Gerard moved, the more the sensation of the lubricant changed and turned from heat to a surprisingly toe-curling chill. Gerard didn’t really seem to like it much at all, but Frank dared to say he liked it more than their regular. 

Once Frank started moaning, Gerard risked taking his member into his hand and began stroking him—staying as gentle as before. The pace matched his thrusts, but Frank was getting more pleasure from inside his body than anything Gerard was trying to do with his hand. 

Frank pulled him into another deep kiss, wanting to be able to move his hips or squeeze Gerard tighter with his legs, but his body was starting to hurt. He had to lie still, but he wanted more than anything to feel as close to Gerard as possible. 

“Baby?” Gerard moaned, turning his face away even though it just made Frank kiss down his neck and throat.

“Hm?” Frank nipped at the Gerard’s collarbone and moaned when Gerard finally started to put effort into the motions of his hand. 

“Can… Can I…”

“What?” Frank panted, bucking up into Gerard’s hand even though it caused his stitches to pull. The pain brought him down, but the continuous tingling and burning inside kept him going. 

“I… I didn’t put on a condom—can I…inside? I just… I want to feel you, and—” Gerard’s sentences were broken with moans and little cries. If the feelings of Gerard in him and touching him—and kissing him—weren’t enough, the small sounds he made could tip him over the edge on their own.

“Okay,” Frank said, running his fingers through Gerard’s hair as he held him in place for a kiss. Gerard moaned against his mouth and his hips jerked sharply. With a few more thrusts, Gerard was moaning into Frank’s neck and then came pressed firmly against his sweet spot.

The consistent pressure sent sparks up Frank’s spine which flashed behind his eyes. Frank went from at the edge to over it in less than a few seconds, and Gerard stayed pressed inside even after Frank had finished and he started going soft. 

Frank kept his legs wound around Gerard’s waist and held him still. He wanted to stay this way for a little longer. Just a little bit…

He felt loved that way. And safe. Gerard was kissing his neck and whispering that he loved him in between out of place apologies. When he started to pull out, Frank surprised himself when he started to cry.

He didn’t want Gerard to go—he didn’t want to let him go for a minute. He understood how Gerard felt on the evenings when he’d cry because Frank had to go to work. Frank felt safe this way. Like he and Gerard were one entity. No one could hurt them… But only if they stayed perfectly, absolutely still.

“Frank, what’s wrong?” Gerard asked, sighing when he pulled completely out. Frank groaned and pulled Gerard down into his arms. “I knew I hurt you—I _knew_ it…”

“Not hurt,” Frank whispered, sniffing and trying to get himself back under control. “I’m fine. I just…I almost died.”

“I know,” Gerard said, sounding like he was going to cry as well. “I won’t go to work tomorrow, okay? I’m gonna stay home with you.”

“Baby, you’ve gotta go to work,” Frank said, nuzzling Gerard’s neck and sighing. 

“No, I don’t,” Gerard whimpered. “I’ll stay home. I just want to keep you safe.”

“I don’t want you to get fired.”

“I don’t care,” Gerard said, starting to cry again as he laid down beside Frank on the mattress. “I’ll… Frank, I don’t want you to go back the diner. I want you to stay here…”

“I have to work,” Frank mumbled, rolling onto his side despite the pain it caused his stiches. He started stroking Gerard’s hair and cooed softly when Gerard stared at him in that special, loving way. 

“What if…what if I went back to singing and you played guitar—and…and if we got it back together? We could play in the band and not have to worry about people shooting you… Because I don’t want you to get shot,” Gerard said, sobbing and scooting closer to Frank.

“Even if we did, it would take a long time to make any money. We’d lose our house…”

“I don’t want to leave you,” Gerard cried. “I want to keep you safe.”

Frank sighed and nuzzled his pillow. He didn’t want to work at the diner anymore, but there was no point putting Gerard through the stress of the band. It was over. That part of their life was dead…

“I want to be in a band with you,” Gerard mumbled. “We’d work together every day.”

“Yeah,” Frank whispered, closing his eyes and feeling his consciousness slip. “I want that too,” Frank murmured. He shuddered slightly before Gerard tossed their blankets over him.

“I’m going to clean up and…I’ll be back, okay?” Gerard whispered. Frank nodded and nuzzled the pillow. He tried to wait for Gerard to get back from the bathroom, but the sounds of the sink and the water worked like hypnotism. He was asleep before Gerard ever made it back to the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought I was almost done with this story...but now I'm thinking. What do you all think of a Part Three detailing less trauma and more romance?


	36. Chapter 36

_Chapter 36_

When Frank woke up in the morning, Gerard was still lying close beside him. Gerard had his hand on Frank’s chest, clutching at his skin, but was still sound asleep. His face was red, and he looked like he’d been crying. 

Frank had a horrible feeling that Gerard had been awake all night weeping, unable to sleep because he was so upset and worried. 

Trying not to wake him, Frank slid out from under Gerard’s arm and got out of the bed. He wanted to shower before Gerard woke up, just so Gerard wouldn’t get a chance to see the stitches. He knew Gerard was worried about him, but seeing the wound would just make it all worse.

Frank could barely stomach the sight of the stitches across his lower abdomen. The trip to the hospital was all a blur, but Frank knew he was going to go back, probably in the afternoon. His gut was burning and stinging, and most of the pain was farther past the sutured skin. 

Gerard was probably going to have to drive him… Frank didn’t think he’d handle that all too well.

After peeling off his carefully wrapped bandages, Frank moaned at the sight of the reddened, inflamed skin around his stiches. The gauze pad was stained with both blood and ointment, and Frank felt like there was an infection and it made him start to tremble. He didn’t remember being stabbed, but it had happened in the kitchen. What if he’d been cut with a dirty knife? One used to cut raw meat?

Frank cried out when the water from the shower struck the wound. The water pressure wasn’t even that strong, but it burned so badly. He tried washing it with soap, but even the gentlest touch was unbearable. 

Frank tried not to actually cry as he cleaned himself, knowing Gerard would see and panic. It hurt, and it scared him, and the true horror of his night sank in. He’d almost died—a man had stabbed him and held a gun to his head. A cop had to shoot the man to get him to let go…and one of those bullets barely missed his shoulder because the robber jerked. 

As soon as Frank rinsed the soap and shampoo off of his body, he turned off the water and started drying off. He wanted to go back to Gerard… 

Frank tried to pat his wound dry, but the towel came away bloody. He didn’t have bandages large enough to cover it, and had to settle for making a bandage out of toilet paper and cotton balls. He covered the wound with antibiotic cream and finally started crying when his fingers came away bloody. 

He just wanted to go back to the hospital and have the stitches redone. Weren’t stitches meant to _stop_ bleeding? Would Lindsey know?

Frank had to tape his bandage on using the adhesive of other bandaids. He felt helpless, but he needed to look tougher so Gerard wouldn’t worry…

“Frank?”

Frank flinched when Gerard appeared beside him in the bathroom. Gerard was looking at him in pity and stared down at the makeshift bandage. 

“I’ll take you to the hospital,” Gerard said. “It looks really bad…”

“I’m fine,” Frank said, feeling his composure break under the weight of Gerard’s stare. He started crying and let Gerard approach him. Frank rested his head against Gerard’s chest, but tried not to appear too desperate or hurt. Gerard would need support too. There was no way he was strong enough to support both of them…

( ) ( ) ( )

When Frank got back from the hospital, he’d been given large enough bandages to keep his wound covered, and had been given a prescription for antibiotics since the wound was starting to get infected. Gerard held Frank’s hand as the doctor cleaned the wound again and covered it in antibiotic cream. 

Frank refused to show how much pain he was in, but Gerard could feel it. He knew Frank didn’t think he could handle it, but Gerard was desperate to prove that he could be a good boyfriend—a worthwhile partner. 

When they got home, Gerard made sure to keep a brave face. He made Frank lunch and served it to him, walked the dogs for him even though he couldn’t bear to be away from him. Of course, he’d had to call off work, but he told his boss that Frank had almost been killed and he was told he could have the day off, but that he couldn’t call off anymore or he’d lose his job.

Around dinner time, Frank refused to let Gerard keep serving him and made dinner for them both. Gerard stayed close to him the entire time he cooked, his arms carefully around Frank’s waist or his hands snug in the back pockets of Frank’s jeans. Every few minutes he’d kiss Frank’s cheek or nuzzle his neck, and although Frank would occasionally sigh when Gerard wouldn’t let him move, but he never told Gerard to let go. 

When the evening grew late, Gerard curled around Frank on the couch as they watched TV. Every now and then he’d stroke Frank’s thigh or lean up to kiss his neck—trying to offer himself without coming off as pushy—but Frank ignored his passes. It hurt a little, but Gerard knew it had nothing to do with him. Frank was probably in pain, and making love would probably just make it all worse. 

He wanted to offer his mouth, but he knew it would probably end badly. He doubted Frank would want his teeth anywhere near him again after biting him the last time…

“Do you want to go to bed?” Frank asked when the programming on the TV turned from unentertaining to boring. 

“Okay,” Gerard said, sitting up and giving Frank a gentle kiss. His boyfriend smiled at him and stroked his hair. 

“You’re cute,” Frank said, fluffing Gerard’s hair before standing up from the couch. “Let’s go,” he said when Gerard didn’t follow him.

Gerard got up quickly and chased Frank into the bedroom. He spied from the doorway as Frank took off his shirt, but lowered his gaze when Frank caught him looking. 

“Come here,” Frank said, laughing softly. Gerard crept over to him and wrapped him up in a careful hug, avoiding contact where the bandage was. “You’re looking at me funny—what’s wrong?”

“I love you,” Gerard said, shrugging his shoulders.

“I can’t tonight,” Frank said gently, rubbing Gerard’s hips. 

“I know,” Gerard said, trying not to sound too disappointed. 

“I want to give the stitches a little more time to…I don’t know. Do their thing.” Frank laughed and Gerard kissed his cheek. 

“Frankie, I’ll blow you if you want,” Gerard said gently. “I just want… I want to make you happy.”

“You don’t…need to do that,” Frank said. Gerard saw Frank’s face twitch with the pain of the bad memory. 

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” Gerard said softly. 

“No, I know,” Frank said. “I just… Gerard, it’s not that I don’t want you, you know? I’m in pain. I can’t.”

“I know,” Gerard said, nuzzling Frank’s neck. He wanted to argue that he could make that pain go away for a little while, but he didn’t want Frank to get mad at him for pushing. “I just like to take care of you.”

“You took care of me a lot today,” Frank said, taking a step back and finishing getting undressed. He kept on his boxers and crawled into bed. Gerard didn’t hide that he was watching him, but hid himself from view as best he could when he took off his shirt and pants. “What’s wrong?” Frank asked. 

“Nothing,” Gerard said, turning off the light before he crawled into their bed. 

“You’re hiding…”

“I’m shy,” Gerard muttered, snuggling up beside Frank and hooking his leg over his boyfriend’s hip.

“You’re cute,” Frank said, sighing and cuddling closer. “Why are you so cute?”

Gerard just hummed and pretended to go to sleep. He didn’t really want to sleep… He didn’t know how sensitive Frank had been to the robbery, but he wanted to be awake if Frank had a bad dream about it and needed saved. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard hated being at work the next day. Every spare moment he could get—in the back room, in the bathroom, during lunch, when business was slow—he would call Frank and check on him. When Frank didn’t pick up because he was on the toilet, Gerard really had to fight the need to go home just to check. Seven minutes after the call failed, Frank texted him saying, just bluntly, ‘srry, poopin.’ 

Gerard laughed, and made sure to show his humor in his next phone call. Frank told him he was going to make dinner, and Gerard pleaded to be allowed to just pick something up so Frank wouldn’t have to worry about the work. 

In the end, Frank won by saying he was already getting the stuff ready. 

So at the end of the night, Gerard hurriedly cleaned up his work and clocked out. He barely even said goodbye to Bob before jumping in his car and driving home. Of course, he called Frank on his way, and kept him on the line until he walked through the door of their house.

“Frank?” Gerard called, even though he could hear Frank working in the kitchen.

“In here, Sweetheart,” Frank said, laughing. Gerard shut the door and made sure to lock all of the locks, not wanting to risk someone sneaking in and causing harm. He knew locks didn’t stop the desperate, but there was little he could do.

“Are you okay?” Gerard asked.

“Of course,” Frank said, smiling when Gerard approached him in the kitchen. “I didn’t even fall in the toilet or anything. I was safe _all day._ ”

“That’s good,” Gerard said, wrapping Frank up in his arms and cooing happily. He loved his boyfriend so much. A day away from him felt like a year. A lifetime. Gerard could cry at the thought of going to work the next day…

“After dinner do you wanna…mess around a little?” Frank asked, smacking Gerard playfully on the back of his thigh. 

“Yes, please,” Gerard mumbled, following Frank when he returned to cooking their dinner. He kissed affectionately at the back of Frank’s neck and nuzzled his hair. To him, their life was turning perfect. Frank had forgiven him for his past cheating, he was hurt but not broken, and Gerard was able to support him like he should. He proved his worth as a partner, even with his flaws. 

“So… I went to the store today,” Frank said.”

“You said you didn’t go out!” Gerard cried. 

“I bought some of our regular stuff since the kind you bought last time made you uncomfortable,” Frank said.

“It wasn’t bad… It was just different. You shouldn’t have gone out—I thought you were safe at home.” 

“I was _safe_ at the store, Sweetheart,” Frank said, smiling softly. Gerard whined and held Frank tighter, hating that he’d been lied to and that Frank put himself in danger again. “Don’t…Don’t get upset. I knew you’d be worried so I didn’t tell you.”

“Frank, that’s not fair,” Gerrard mumbled. 

“Sweetheart, I just wanted to go out. I’m okay.”

“No you’re not!” Gerard cried, not angry but wounded. “Frank… Someone could’ve held up the store! You wouldn’t know…”

“Someone could’ve held up you’re store today, Gerard. We can’t live our lives being afraid of it. I’m _okay._ You don’t have to think of me as vulnerable, Sweetheart. I’m alright.”

“But…”

“Gerard, if I thought of you every day as the way you were back when we first met I wouldn’t be able to leave the house. I can’t think of you as a victim every day, and you can’t look at me as one either. You’re okay now, and I’m okay…”

“I don’t believe that,” Gerard mumbled.

“Gerry—”

“Don’t call me Gerry…”

“—you can’t worry about me all day. You’ll make yourself sick…”

“I can’t help it. I worry,” Gerard said. 

“I’m safe,” Frank said gently. 

“I… I want to be the reason you feel safe, though. Like how you are with me.”

“Aw, Gerard—you take good care of me,” Frank said, turning around in Gerard’s arms and kissing him on the lips softly. “All day yesterday and when I came home the other night, you were perfect. You were strong for me and everything.”

“I freaked the fuck out,” Gerard muttered. He tried to be strong for Frank, but he could’ve done a lot better and Frank knew it…

“Gerard, if you hadn’t been there for me like you were, I’d probably be hiding out in the bedroom still. You made me feel safe—Gerard, you really did.”

“I just copied you,” Gerard mumbled. “I did what you do for me…”

“Yeah,” Frank said. “But you didn’t _have_ to. You could’ve just freaked out and left me to calm you down…”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” Gerard said. “I tried to hide it.”

“I knew you were worried,” Frank said. “And I know you were being tough for me and it was cute—you’re really cute.”

“I don’t always want to _be_ cute. I’m… I’m a grown man. I should be—”

“Fine. It was _endearing._ Gerard, you’re my man. I don’t care if you’re cute or you’re handsome or if you’re chiseled from marble. You’re my partner—you compliment me. We work well together. Now eat your dinner.”

“Frank…” Gerard felt rejected when Frank walked away to set the table. The last time Frank told him to eat and he refused, he’d had burning hot pasta thrown on his face. 

“If you keep it up, I’m gonna spank you. Eat your dinner—stop being a brat.” Frank said it with no emotion, but it still set something off in the pit of Gerard’s stomach. He didn’t know if was fear—a beating was a beating, but he knew Frank was teasing him—or if it was pleasure. He was always trying to make Frank more aggressive with him (even though it sometimes made Frank more violent than he expected), but when it came down to it he wasn’t sure if that was really what he wanted…

Gerard slowly sat down at the table, looking like a child that had been threatened. Frank looked at him in confusion and then came to his side of the table to kiss the top of his head before taking his seat. 

“Don’t worry,” Frank said, picking up his fork. “I’m not actually going to hit you. You know that.”

“What if…what if I want you to?” Gerard asked, looking down at his plate and trying not to blush. It wasn’t actual embarrassment, more fear and shame. He knew he didn’t want his master back, but he missed the control. It was freeing not having to think… To be told what to do and knowing the consequences of what would happen if he messed up.

“I’d… I’d play around with you, but I won’t hit to hurt,” Frank said. 

“Do you…want to play with me?” Gerard asked, trying to make his tone flirty but failing. He just sounded shy and awkward. He was horrible in his attempts to be sexy… It always came off as corny or as the product of a cheap porno. 

“How do you want to play?” Frank asked. “Remember—I have stitches. I can’t do a lot.”

“I don’t know,” Gerard whispered. “What would you be willing to do with me?” He didn’t like talking about it with Frank. It was awkward and embarrassing. 

“Whatever you want as long as you don’t get hurt,” Frank said. “I don’t mind… I won’t, you know, bring anyone else into our house or…obviously I’m not going to use any toys on you.”

“Thank you,” Gerard said quickly. He didn’t need to add any more. Frank knew how badly toys scared him and why. Having mentioned was enough to kill the small arousal he had going… Gerard started picking at his dinner and shuddered against the bad feelings.

“Would you…want me to like… I don’t know. I could do a strip show for you—you want me to be your stripper?” 

Gerard couldn’t help but giggle, and tried to hide it by stuffing a large amount of food in his mouth. Frank laughed at him, not cruelly but in good humor, and Gerard tried to mask his embarrassment as he took a drink of water. 

“Would you…take pictures of me?” Gerard asked, looking up cautiously.

“What…kind of pictures? Like, naked pictures?”

“Maybe,” Gerard whispered. “So you could look at me later…and think about me if we’re apart.”

“Like on my phone?” Frank asked.

“Yeah,” Gerard whispered. “You could…say that you’ll show them to people if I’m…you know.”

“Is that…what you want?” Frank asked, taking another bite of dinner.

“I mean, you won’t _really_ show anyone, right?”

“No,” Frank said, shaking his head. “You’re mine. I don’t share you.” 

“I like… I like feeling like…you won’t let me get away with things.”

“Okay,” Frank said, nodding. Gerard was surprised Frank was being so open with him. He tried countless times over the years to get Frank to take control and Frank always fought him. It was hard to believe that one near-death experience took that aversion away.

“I don’t want yelled at,” Gerard whispered.

“Alright,” Frank said, smiling a little. “That’s good because I don’t want to yell at you. I don’t like yelling…”

“What can…I do for you?” Gerard asked. “You have to have something…a fantasy or something.”

“Well…” Frank sighed and leaned back in his chair. “What do you think about…bath sex?”

“We fuck in the shower all the time,” Gerard said. “Like… _all the time._ ”

“No, I mean…in the bath. Like, in the tub while taking a bath… I don’t—no, I don’t know. It’d be warm and… No. I don’t know.”

“I…I think that’d be cool,” Gerard said, not wanting Frank to feel embarrassed either. “I mean, when your stitches are healed.”

“Yeah… Right,” Frank said. He looked defeated and Gerard didn’t understand.

“You can take pictures…” Gerard said. “Of us in the tub.”

“Do you really want that?” Frank asked, sounding completely baffled by the idea. 

“I…I like the thought of you seeing me,” Gerard said. “I want you to look at me when you’re at work…”

“At—At work?” Frank stammered. “Gerard, I could get fired…”

“But wouldn’t it be…”

“You want me to get off at work?” Frank asked.

“No,” Gerard whispered, afraid Frank was going to get mad at him. He just wanted them to be together and explore things, not get Frank angry or agitated. “I want you to think about me at work and want me when you come home…”

“Okay,” Frank said, his voice too mellow. “So…What if—when my stitches are out—we play it like this: We have a good night—take some photos and stuff—then I go to work, I can think about you all day and come home… Then when I get home you’ve got a bath ready?”

The look Frank shot him was so seductive that Gerard could’ve melted in his seat. 

“I want that,” Gerard said quickly, swallowing hard. He was so distracted he could hardly eat his dinner.

“We’re going to have a good weekend next week,” Frank said. 

“Can we still play tonight?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah,” Frank said. “Do you…want to do something different tonight? I have stitches…”

“You said…” Gerard started blushing and he shook his head. “No…”

“What?” Frank asked, smiling a little. “What?”

“Nothing…”

“Aw, don’t get shy. You’re adorable—what? I won’t laugh at you.”

“No,” Gerard said, blushing harder and shaking his head more adamantly. 

“Aw,” Frank said, shrugging his shoulders and returning his attention to his meal. 

“Do you want me to do anything tonight?” Gerard asked. “Anything…different?”

“I mean…I want to be lazy. Do you want to do all the work?” Frank asked, looking at his food as if he were commenting on nothing more than the weather.

“Like…top?”

“Or, you know, sit on me.”

“Oh,” Gerard said, blushing. “Okay.”

“But you’ve gotta make sure not to bump my stitches—they hurt like hell.”

“Okay,” Gerard repeated, eating a little faster. He liked the idea… 

He liked this idea a lot.

( ) ( ) ( )

Back in the bedroom, Frank hardly recognized Gerard anymore. As soon as the door closed—just to keep the dogs from jumping in bed and joining them—Gerard started kissing him and wouldn’t let up. He slid his hands under Frank’s shirt and ran one hand down the front of his jeans…

Gerard acted like he was afraid Frank was going to slip through his fingers and disappear. The kiss barely left room for breath, and Gerard kept pushing and pushing until Frank finally lay down on the bed.

Once he was lying down, Gerard made quick work of Frank’s socks, then his belt, then started tugging down his jeans and boxers in a few quick pulls. For some reason, he didn’t bother with Frank’s shirt. He stripped himself completely naked and then, without asking Frank permission, took Frank’s length into his mouth and started sucking. 

Frank thought to ask Gerard to stop, but was terrified of upsetting the mood and getting bitten again. After bobbing his head up and down about six times, Gerard pulled off and fumbled for the bedside drawer. He took out a condom and both bottles of lube, but stared at them critically. 

“Does this one hurt?” Gerard asked, looking at the warming and cooling lubricant he’d bought at the store.

“No,” Frank panted. “A little…it burns at first, but then it…gets all tingly. It’s different.”

“Should I try it?” Gerard asked, looking over at the bottle of their regular brand. 

“I don’t know,” Frank said. “The burn isn’t too bad. It doesn’t last very long. The more you move the…the better it gets.”

“What about after?” Gerard asked. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Frank said, shaking his head. “It tingles…then it quits. You’re being cute—if it hurt I wouldn’t let you try it. Try it—it’s not bad.” Frank couldn’t help but laugh at the look of confusion on Gerard’s face. 

“Okay,” Gerard whispered, setting the bottle of the regular brand back down on the drawer. 

“Do you want me to—”

“No,” Gerard said, almost whining like a small child. “I’ve got it.” Gerard poured some of the lube on his fingers and worked it between them, looking at it as if it were new to him. After a moment, he moved to straddle Frank’s hips, and he slowly lowered his hand.

Frank felt his breath catch in his throat when Gerard worked a finger inside of himself. It was hard not to stare at Gerard’s hand, but instinct told him to check Gerard’s face. He was wincing, and his eyes widened almost comically when his movements triggered the lube.

“That’s…that’s st-strange,” Gerard mumbled, blushing darkly as he worked a third finger inside of himself. He was hardly giving his body the attention it needed—focusing more on getting it over with than actually prepping. Gerard looked uncomfortable, but he was moving his fingers quickly—turning the lube from fire to ice. 

Frank could’ve laughed when Gerard’s face changed with the sensation. His alarm turned to surprise, and within a matter of seconds, Gerard was taking his fingers out and rolling the condom onto Frank’s cock. He slicked his hand with a lot more lube than necessary, and then slathered it over Frank’s member. 

Gerard was quick to climb over Frank’s hips, but no matter how hard Frank tried, Gerard wouldn’t look at him as he lowered himself. Even when Gerard slid the tip inside, he stared at the wall, his eyes half-closed. 

“Are you okay?” Frank asked, watching Gerard slowly lower himself until he’d taken Frank’s entire length. 

Gerard sighed softly and squirmed, trying to get his legs in the right position so he could move without straining himself. As soon as he found the right pose, he started dragging himself up and down. 

Frank lifted his hands to stroke Gerard’s hips, still wanting Gerard to say he was alright even if his face was starting to soften with pleasure. 

“Sweetheart?” Frank asked.

“Feels strange,” Gerard murmured. “When does the…the b-burn stop?”

“It doesn’t last long,” Frank said, moaning when Gerard dropped down on him heavily. 

“It burns,” Gerard groaned, moving himself up and down faster. Frank was captivated by watching Gerard’s cock bounce with his movements… Slowly, Frank reached up to stroke him, but Gerard slapped his hand away. “I-I’m taking care of you,” he mumbled. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Gerard…”

“I’ve got it,” Gerard panted, moving himself a little faster. Frank moaned and gripped at Gerard’s hips, helping guide Gerard into a less brutal pace. He was afraid Gerard was going to injure himself. He’d hardly prepped and his body was almost painfully tight. 

When the chemistry of the lubricant switched from the burning to the ice, Gerard stopped moving completely. He pressed down on Frank’s hips, and Frank moaned when Gerard’s muscles fluttered around him. 

Gerard whimpered softly and started moving again, changing the angle of his hips so that Frank’s cock struck his prostate with each thrust. Frank tried to stroke Gerard’s member again, but like before Gerard pushed his hand away.

“Quit,” Gerard moaned, gripping Frank’s hips and using them as leverage. His grip was tight enough to leave bruises, and Frank watched carefully—ready to grab Gerard’s hand if it moved too close to his stitches. “This…this feels good,” Gerard called. 

Frank wanted to try to touch him again—it felt wrong to not do any of the work at all—but knew it would just make Gerard upset. He wasn’t going to do anything to wipe the look of pure bliss and obscene pleasure off his face. 

The faster Gerard moved, the more his moans turned to shrill and desperate cries. Gerard lifted one of his hands from Frank’s hips and began stroking himself. His grip was too tight, and Frank could see the little sparks of pain shoot through Gerard’s lidded eyes. When he caught Frank watching, Gerard turned his face away and clenched his muscles, making Frank moan. It was all so unbearably tight, but so hot and so good. 

But it really couldn’t last… 

After a few more minutes, Gerard had to stop. He groaned in displeasure while pumping his erection, no longer having enough energy to move himself up and down on Frank’s cock.

Frank sighed and reached up to touch Gerard’s hand. Gerard shook his head and tried to push his hand away again.

“Sweetheart, don’t you want to switch positions?” Frank asked, trying to make his tone gentle.

“No,” Gerard moaned, lifting himself up again and moaning as he dropped down. Gerard pumped himself a few more times before lowering his hand to Frank’s hips, too tired to keep up. Finally, Frank was able to reach up and stroke Gerard’s cock. 

Gerard growled in protest, but didn’t say to stop and seemed appreciative when his orgasm drew near. He fought his fatigued muscles to keep ramming the tip of Frank’s cock against his prostate, moaning shrilly each time before collapsing down onto Frank’s chest.

“I can’t,” he whimpered, sounding grief-stricken a broken. 

“It’s okay,” Frank said, stroking the underside of Gerard’s cock even though his boyfriend was whimpering as if in pain. “Let’s roll over, okay? I’ve got it—It’s okay.”

Gerard moaned sadly, but climbed slowly off of Frank’s lap. He made a noise of pain as he moved to lie face down on the bed. Frank tried to get him to roll over, but Gerard wouldn’t budge. He just lay panting, too exhausted to even get himself off. 

“Okay,” Frank said, smiling and leaning over Gerard’s back to kiss his cheek. Gerard turned his head to secure a kiss on the lips before sighing as Frank lined up and pushed back in. 

Gerard moaned and started gripping at his pillow. Frank tried to reach around to stroke him, but at the angle it pushed his bandaged stitches against Gerard’s back and sent him a jolt of pain. 

As if sensing it, Gerard looked over his shoulder at Frank and let out a quiet sound—a noise of appeasement and apology. As if he was saying it was all his fault and that he was sorry…

“You’re beautiful,” Frank whispered, keeping his thrusts gentle. Gerard sighed heavily and rocked his hips back against Frank’s. He muttered something about being sorry, but Frank shushed him and changed his angle until Gerard cried out in pleasure. 

Gerard barely lasted a few more thrusts before his body was writhing under the force of his orgasm. The tightness pushed Frank over the edge, and he slowly thrust through the aftershocks. 

When he pulled out and threw the condom into the bedside trash, Gerard was shaking and dropped his thighs down immediately onto the mattress. 

“Are you okay?” Frank asked softly, stroking Gerard’s spine. 

Gerard mumbled something inaudible and slowly rolled over onto his side.

“Hm?” Frank asked, wiping the hair out of Gerard’s face. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m tired,” Gerard murmured. 

Frank chuckled softly and curled up next to Gerard in the bed. It was relieving to know that Gerard was upset from the exercise and not because he was hurt. 

“You’re cute,” Frank said, kissing Gerard’s cheek down to his lower lip.

“I can’t walk…”

“Did you pull a muscle?” Frank asked, rubbing his nose again Gerard’s.

“No… I weigh too much…”

“Stop,” Frank said, rolling his eyes and throwing their blanket over Gerard’s thighs. “You’re perfect.”

“I can’t even be on top without getting tired…”

“Well, it’s not exactly easy work. You’ve got all your weight on your knees. You did fine—you’re perfect.”

“I don’t know if I like that stuff,” Gerard mumbled. “It burns…”

“That’s why I bought the regular. You can use the regular and I’ll use the other one—I like the new one. It’s different.”

“It hurts,” Gerard whispered. “I mean, it gets better and gets really nice, but it hurts at first and…I don’t know. It’s like punishment.”

“Punishment?” Frank asked, stroking Gerard’s hair carefully and trying to make him feel safe and comforted. 

“Like…a playful one… I don’t know. It doesn’t hurt _bad…_ I won’t cry from it, and it always stops. It… I don’t know. I want to sleep…”

“It’s still early,” Frank said, smiling and kissing Gerard gently. 

“Nap?” Gerard asked. He looked at Frank hopefully and Frank scooted closer to him on the bed. 

“Okay. But just for a little while.” 

Gerard sighed softly and hooked his leg over Frank’s hips, cuddling close and closing his eyes. Frank held him and kissed the top of his head a couple of times before Gerard started growling. In a few quick motions, Gerard had shifted to put Frank’s head on his chest. He wrapped an arm over Frank’s shoulder and nuzzled the top of his head, fighting to be the one to offer comfort and support—more than determined to prove his worth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...two or three more chapters and this installment is complete. However, I don't think you're going to like me for what I have planned next. Not at all... (But there will be a part three!)


	37. Chapter 37

_Chapter 37_

Frank scrolled through the dozens of pictures on his phone while sitting in the back of the kitchen on his lunch break. He was eating “overcooked” food from a plate a customer had sent back, and every now and then one of the photos would make the food get stuck in his throat when he tried to swallow.

Like pictures of Gerard fingering himself… Or pictures of Gerard with cum on his stomach, or his chest, or his face—his pretty, pretty face. Frank _hated_ that moment, even if Gerard had begged for it and the photo turned out hot. Frank didn’t want to degrade Gerard, and it was hard getting used to the idea that Gerard wanted it…

It was like living with his own little porn star. In some ways it was horrifying, but underneath it all it was just fucking hot.

Frank kept scrolling up and down, looking through photo after photo. He needed to pick the right one… One with Gerard’s face, but not the one with the cum. There were lots of pictures of Gerard’s orgasm face because, honestly, that was Frank’s favorite… Gerard didn’t think so, but Gerard was never a good judge on what was attractive and what was straight up smut.

With only ten minutes left of his break, Frank picked a photo of Gerard lying back on the bed with his needy, lusty look on his face. He sent it to Gerard—who was also at work—with a little message saying “this 1s my fav.”

Within a few minutes, he got a text back. Gerard saying he looked fat in that one and sent a different photo back. 

Frank giggled and shielded his phone from view even though no one was around to see. Gerard sent a picture he’d taken of them together in the bath. It was taken at a crazy, above-the-scene angle and Gerard was making a bizarrely cute kissy face. In the picture, Frank was just lying on Gerard’s chest half asleep. Sometimes he didn’t know where Gerard got his energy when they were finished… He was either hyperactive or passed out immediately when it was over.

Frank selected another photo—one of Gerard’s splendid O face—and sent it back with the note “even cuter.”

Gerard replied, simply, “Nooo.”

Laughing, Frank held out his phone to take a picture of himself sticking out his tongue. He sent it to Gerard saying he was going back to work.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard giggled and stared at his phone. He was supposed to be restocking the shelves, but he’d set his box down when Frank started texting. It was always exciting when Frank sent him texts when he was at work—especially since the texts sometimes had the dirty pictures that would make Gerard blush.

It was so surprising when Frank actually agreed to peek at the photos at work, and it was even better when they started sending the pictures back and forth… There had to be dozens of them. Probably close to fifty or sixty, and all varied in intensity—from cute, to flirty, to downright explicit. 

When he got the photo of Frank sticking out his tongue at him, Gerard giggled and leaned back against the glass display case. He was so focused on his phone he didn’t even see Bob coming up to him.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Bob asked, intentionally loud. 

Gerard jumped and dropped his phone, making the battery fall out and preventing Gerard from quickly replying to Frank’s picture with one of his own. 

“Frank was on break,” Gerard said, dropping down onto the floor to pick up the pieces of his phone. 

“Well, you’re not. So put the phone away.” Bob looked down at Gerard skeptically, annoyed at his lack of work ethic. When it came to Frank, Gerard really couldn’t focus on anything else.

“I thought you were our boss—I almost shit,” Gerard said, standing back up and restarting his phone. Bob glared at him when the phone sang out its little start-up tune and Gerard sank into himself slightly.

“You’re lucky it wasn’t,” Bob said harshly. 

“It’s the only chance I get to talk to Frank during the day,” Gerard mumbled.

“You know, Gerard, I’ve been thinking,” Bob said, taking a stack of CDs out of Gerard’s box and starting to help stock the shelves. Business was slow during the lunch hour.

“Hm?” Gerard asked, sending a text to Frank while stacking a bunch of The Used CDs in the wrong spot.

“Pay attention to your work,” Bob muttered.

“What?” Gerard looked at Bob while putting his phone back in his pocket and then looked at his misplaced stack. “Oh! Sorry… Sorry. It’s the only time I get to talk to Frank _all day._ ”

“Right,” Bob said, nodding and stacking CDs. “I was wondering, Gerard, if you’d want to try out the band again. Ray and I have been talking about it—”

“Frank’s too busy with work,” Gerard said absently. 

“Not any busier than he used to be,” Bob said. “What do _you_ think? Would you be able to sing again?”

“I don’t know,” Gerard mumbled. He felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach and tried to ignore it while stacking the CDs louder. “I mean… Aren’t we all kind of old now?”

“You’re hardly old,” Bob said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I wish I could spend more time with Frank… If we had a band, I could be with him all day.”

“You’re not too old,” Bob said. “You’re not even thirty.”

“I will be soon,” Gerard muttered, grabbing the box and moving it to the next aisle of glass cases. 

“So you’re past your youth. You don’t _look_ old.”

“Frank says I don’t age…”

“ _Frank_ doesn’t age. I saw his high school photo one time—he looks exactly the same.”

“I haven’t seen his school photos,” Gerard said, looking at Bob closely. “Why do you have his pictures?”

“I don’t. Ray had one.”

Gerard stared at him and then returned to his work. He was still afraid to sing. He’d gotten the nightmares to quit and he didn’t want his song lyrics to spur them again. He guessed he could write some new songs… He scribbled a few lyrics here and there in his studio, but hid them so Frank wouldn’t find them and get excited. 

He came home early to find Frank playing his guitar in the bedroom. Gerard felt guilty for stamping out Frank’s dreams of playing in a band. If it hadn’t been for him, he and Ray probably would’ve started a band long ago…

They’d probably be famous.

“I don’t want to let Frank down anymore,” Gerard said. “I freak out when I sing. I don’t want to get his hopes up and ruin them again like last time.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Bob said. Gerard glared at him and emptied the box of CDs.

“Frank wants the band,” Gerard whispered. 

“We could always just try playing again some weekend and see how it goes.”

“I guess,” Gerard said, checking his phone and frowning when Frank didn’t reply. The lunch hour was busy for him…

“You could be with Frank a lot more…”

“On the off chance we get famous and can make a life of it. It’s not like we can just quit our jobs. We have a house and dogs to take care of…”

“Gerard, you’ve got powerful lyrics and you’re good at what you do—”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Gerard said. “A lot of people who write better than me and sing better than me make music…”

“But that’s no reason to give up,” Bob said. 

“I know,” Gerard said. His phone chirped and he took it out of his pocket despite Bob’s disapproving stare. “It’s Mikey…” he said, putting the phone away without responding to the text.

“So you don’t answer your brother, but you will for Frank?” Bob asked, laughing softly. “I’ll get you another box.” As he was walking away, Gerard’s phone chirped again and he smiled when he saw it was Frank. 

There was a soft ding as a customer walked through the front door, but Gerard stayed focused on his phone. Frank sent him a picture of himself next to a picture a child had drawn of him on her paper placemat. Apparently it was the girl’s birthday so Frank gave her a fancy cupcake with a candle, and she thanked him with the cartoony drawing. The message sent with it said “apparently my work outfit makes me look fat” because the drawing of him was very round.

Gerard giggled and typed out that he loved Frank, curves and all. Within a few seconds, Frank replied with “you think I’m fat too??!” Gerard giggled and told him he was perfect. 

Gerard lowered his phone and slid it back into his pocket, still grinning. When he looked up, his smile immediately died. 

A customer was standing in his aisle, looking over the CDs in the F—H case. It was man who looked to be in his late fifties with greying hair but a closely trimmed and dyed black beard, and was dressed in a suit jacket over a plane grey t-shirt. He had on dark sunglasses, and Gerard knew who he was. 

He couldn’t move, not even to scream or cry or call for Bob. Everything in Gerard’s body told him to stay perfectly still and maybe, just maybe, he’d turn invisible. Maybe the man in the dark glasses would turn away and leave. 

Gerard took a shaking breath and turned his eyes to glance at the door to the back room. Why was Bob taking so long? Bob needed to come… Gerard needed Bob—he needed someone.

Then, slowly, the man turned toward him and stopped. He stared Gerard directly in the face from behind those evil, black glasses and whimpered as he felt a tear start rolling down his cheek. He wanted to scream, but his jaw was frozen and his throat closed so tightly he could barely even breathe. All at once his entire body was trembling and the only noises he could make were soft, broken whimpers of fear.

The man took a step closer and Gerard let out a quiet, shrill cry of fear and arched backwards, unable to even step backwards. Gerard shot another look toward the back room, but Bob still hadn’t reappeared and the man was walking closer… 

Gerard mouthed the word please and wrapped his arms protectively around his chest, trembling when the man started to smirk.

“No,” Gerard whispered, shaking his head as the man drew nearer. “Please,” he breathed. The man ignored him and Gerard closed his eyes tightly. He wanted it to be a dream—he wanted to wake up. Just wake up. Because it was over—this wasn’t happening. It couldn’t! “Please,” Gerard cried, his voice broken and shrill.

He felt a hand brush against his wrist and he cried out—finally able to make a sound louder than a whisper. 

“Please,” he croaked, shaking hard enough that his legs threatened to drop him. “Please, please—don’t.”

“You just gonna stand there not doing your job?” The man hissed, his voice even softer than Gerard’s so that no one could overhear him. “I thought I taught you better than that, Babe.”

Gerard opened his mouth, trying to scream, but one harsh order silenced him before he could even make a sound.

“Hush.”

Gerard closed his eyes again and started weeping. He knew what happened next… He’d be hit and drug out of the store—pushed into a car and taken back into Hell. 

“Now you’re gonna look at me— _look at me!_ ” It was vicious, but he didn’t yell. Gerard immediately opened his eyes and stared into the dark reflective glasses of his trainer. As soon as it sank that it wasn’t a dream, Gerard cried out—shuddering when he felt his bladder give out as he cowered. “You’re fucking disgusting,” his trainer hissed. “Where the fuck is your master?” He kept his voice so low, but it was still so threatening and violent. Gerard squirmed when the man grabbed him firmly by his wrist and squeezed. “Look at me…” Gerard scanned the store quickly, looking for his boss or for Bob. Where did everyone go? “ _Look at me,_ you piece of shit. Where the fuck is your master—or are you one of the sluts that ran away?”

“H-he…” Gerard trembled and looked away towards the door to the back room. “H-he went t-to g-get me m-more work, sir,” Gerard cried. “P-please… Please, i-if he s-sees me talk t-to you, h-he’ll get s-so m-m-mad.”

“And he gives you a fuckin’ cell phone, fuck-whore?” His trainer hissed under his breath. 

Gerard shuddered and tightened the hold he had around his own chest. 

“I… M-Master will… M-my master wi-will…” Gerard looked over at the back room and cried out when his trainer pushed him backwards. 

“If I see you on the streets again, you’re dead. _Dead,_ crackwhore. Do you hear me? You remember what I do with whore who don’t do what I say.”

“Yes, Ma-Master,” Gerard stammered, staring at his trainer with wide, terrorized eyes. Images or cruelty and tortures flickered by in his mind. He could feel bite marks, burns, and the bruises of a million beatings. He could the chill of a steel table pressed into his back.

Gerard started sobbing when the man backed away from him. As soon as he walked out the glass front doors, Gerard started screaming and dropped to his knees. 

“Gerard?”

As he curled into himself on the floor, Gerard watched as Bob stepped out of the back room. Their boss was with him and both were holding boxes of CDs.

“Shit—Gerard, what’s wrong?” Bob dropped the box and dropped down at Gerard’s side, rubbing his back while Gerard continued to sob. “What? Did you get cut on something?” Bob looked around at the glass cases as if expecting one of them to be broken.

“Gerard, what happened?” His boss asked, kneeling down next to Bob and rubbing Gerard’s shoulder.

Gerard wanted to explain, but the terror overwhelmed him. When he tried to speak, all that came out was a scream. One scream that kept tearing out of his throat over and over when all he could see—past Bob’s face and his boss’s face—were knives and belts, chains and toys. He felt pain drench his body, and tried to cover his face against it—fearing that someone was going to cut out his tongue or stick needles into his eyes. Afraid that all the horrible things he’d seen were about to be done again.

“I don’t know what’s wrong…” Bob said.

“I thought I heard someone come in,” their boss said.

“Is he hurt?—Gerard, are you hurt?” Bob asked, trying to get Gerard to unfold himself. Gerard resisted his efforts and clung to himself tighter, his arms wrapped around his chest.

“I might call an ambulance…”

“No!” Gerard cried, breaking free of his stupor. “No—I… I just… I just need Frank—I need Frank.” He tried to get his phone out of his pocket, but started sobbing harder when he brushed his hand against the soaked fabric of the front of his jeans. 

“Gerard, just tell me what happened,” Bob said before lowering his voice to a whisper. “Was it what I said about the band?”

“N-no,” Gerard stammered, shuddering as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Frank is at work,” Bob said. “Gerard, just tell me what happened—you’re a mess.”

“No,” Gerard whispered, shaking his head and looking up at the glass front doors. No one was there now… Maybe it was a nightmares. Just a waking nightmares. It wasn’t real… Couldn’t have been real.

“Gerard?” His boss was trying to pull him up to his feet, but Gerard was too ashamed to lift himself up. He didn’t want them to see he’d pissed himself just at the sight of a phantom. Because he _couldn’t have been there!_

“I’m… I’m gonna take him home,” Bob said. “He’s…flashing back or something. Gerard, come on.” With both his boss and Bob pulling on him, Gerard was forced onto his feet. When Bob and his boss noticed the dark stain in the front of his pants, they both sighed in simultaneous disgust and Gerard bowed his head. “Come on, Gerard—let’s go. Let’s go.”

Bob started pulling on him and Gerard stumbled when he tried to walk. He froze when Bob tried to push him out of the glass doors. He tried to turn back around, but Bob kept pushing, telling him he’d be fine and there was nothing to worry about.

“Let’s go—I’m just taking you to my car. I’ll take you home,” Bob said. He rubbed Gerard’s back, but Gerard kept shaking. 

Trainer said if he saw him on the streets again, he’d be taken. And if Trainer saw him here, Trainer could follow him home. He would _find_ Frank and take him away, too. If he _ever_ left the record store, Trainer would know where he lived. 

“I can’t,” Gerard cried, clutching at Bob’s arm in an attempt to get it away from the door. “I can’t go! I can’t leave!”

“Gerard, what happened?” Bob asked firmly, grabbing Gerard by the arms. “Tell me what the fuck happened. Alright?”

“No,” Gerard said, shaking his head rapidly. Speaking would make it real. Going outside would _prove_ it was real.

“Gerard, come on—you’re gonna get fired if you act like this. We’ve gotta go. Let me take you home…”

Gerard looked out the glass doors and trembled. Cars were going by slowly on the street, traffic backed up by the lunch rush. The parking lot was crowded and any one of those cars could have been his trainers… 

Gerard screamed when Bob pushed him through the doors and out into the parking lot. He collapsed onto his knees and have to have Bob help him back up. He started sobbing again when he looked around at the expanse of cars. His trainer could be anywhere… Anywhere—watching. Watching and planning. Plotting…

“No,” Gerard cried, collapsing against Bob’s chest. “He’s going to follow us,” Gerard cried. “Please—Please I can’t go home.”

“Who’s going to follow you?” Bob asked quietly. Gerard just shook his head frantically and gaped at all the cars. “Gerard, who the hell were you talking to!?” 

“No one,” Gerard sobbed. Bob pushed him into his truck and Gerard curled against the door when it slammed shut. Gerard cried and clawed at his face, terrified. His cheeks and eyes both burned from the tears, and he his throat hurt from screaming and struggling to breathe. 

“Are you gonna say what happened?” Bob asked when he started the truck. Gerard sobbed and shook his head. He thought to say that he wanted Frank, but all he could do was lean against the door and tremble. 

( ) ( ) ( )

A man known to most only as Carlos, sat in his car watching as a pathetic excuse for a human being was drug out of the record store. Dripping with tears and snot and piss, the worthless whore fell to its knees in the parking lot. 

It kept looking around at all the cars—trying to find, Carlos—but couldn’t see him through his tinted windows. 

“Gerard, who the hell were you talking to!?” The slut’s master screamed. 

The slave could not answer him. He was too pathetic.

Carlos had heard a rumor that the ring had all broken down because of his little black-haired beauty. He’d heard that he got bought by some equally pathetic man who let him go… But that was obviously wrong. 

Carlos knew his property when he saw it, and that “Gerard” was definitely his old pet. He was still so broken and weak. There was no way he could’ve gotten free. If he had, he would’ve called for the police as soon as he recognized his old Trainer.

When the red truck drove off, Carlos drove the other way. He had no reason to see his old property again. Not when it was being taken care of. Hell, after a stunt like that, the slut would probably be dead by morning.


	38. Chapter 38

_Chapter 38_

Bob practically had to carry Gerard into his house. At first it was because Gerard refused to get out of the truck, then it was because Gerard started hyperventilating and almost fainted, then Gerard just couldn’t use his legs.

Once he was inside, however, Gerard fell against the door and locked it in all three places. Bob let him sink down to the floor after that, trying to get him to calm down. The dogs he and Frank kept ran to greet their owner and Gerard took both of them in his arms. He cried into the neck of a fluffy white dog, and let the pug lick at his cheek. 

“Gerard?” Bob asked when Gerard’s crying had turned from sobs into soft whispers. “What happened today?”

“Nothing,” Gerard whispered. As soon as he spoke, he started sobbing again and he pushed the dogs gently away. “I need to change clothes.”

He tossed his work ID lanyard onto the floor and disappeared into his bedroom. Within minutes, Gerard burst back out into the living room carrying a basket full of laundry and weeping as hard as he had been in the record store.

“I need to wash our clothes—it’s laundry day. What’s he going to think if he gets home and there are dirty clothes everywhere?” Gerard cried. He made it halfway through the living room before his shaking hands caused the basket to drop and spill across the floor. Gerard fell down beside it as if defeated and curled into a shrieking ball.

“Gerard—please, just tell me what’s going on!” Bob said. It was hard not to lose his patience. Gerard was obviously caught in a flashback or saw something—or god forbid _someone_ —but instead of reaching out for help he was just panicking. “What’s the matter with you!?” Bob yelled, picking up the spilled clothes and putting them back in the basket.

“I saw him,” Gerard cried, clawing at his face. Bob had to grab his hands to make him stop, and he was close to slapping him to break his hysteria when Gerard’s phone chirped as he got a text.

“Hey—Hey, did you hear that?” Bob asked, trying to sound kind. “It’s your phone—Frank’s texting you. Don’t you want to talk to Frank?”

Gerard shook his head no, and Bob grabbed the cell phone out of the pocket of Gerard’s jeans. He saw the text was from Mikey and sighed. 

“Gerard, do you want me to call someone for you?” Bob asked. “I don’t know how to help…”

“I need to do the l-laundry,” Gerard choked, slowly sitting up on the floor. He tried to grab for the basket but Bob blocked him. 

“Frank doesn’t care about the laundry—if you’re trying to go down to the basement to wash clothes, you’re gonna fall and you’re gonna get hurt. You need to quit it.”

“I…” Gerard looked at the basket desperately and then stared up at Bob. “I don’t… I don’t want Frank to know—he’ll leave me,” Gerard cried. Bob couldn’t understand why Gerard looked so positively devastated. 

He’d seen some man in the record store and he thought Frank would leave him because he cried and needed taken home? 

“He’s not going to leave—and you’re _going_ to tell him about this.”

“No, I’m not,” Gerard cried, shaking his head. “W-we just got better—I can’t… I can’t relapse again, Bob! I just got better!” Gerard covered his face with his hands and started bawling again.

“Gerard, I promise you that Frank won’t care… He’s gonna take care of you. You’re gonna be fine.”

“I don’t want taken care of!” Gerard screamed, ripping at his hair. “I want to be his boyfriend! I-I want him to love me because I’m worthy of it—not because he takes care of me… I don’t want to be his _dog._ ”

“Okay,” Bob said, sighing and looking down at Gerard. “Gerard… _I’ll_ go start your laundry. I want you to call Mikey.”

“I don’t want to call Mikey,” Gerard moaned. “I want to do my laundry—please leave.”

“Gerard—”

“Get out!” Gerard screamed. He shot a vicious look up at Bob that almost threatened to kill. His eyes were both bloodshot and fiery, and his voice was shaken with rage. 

“I’m just trying to help,” Bob said.

“Get out!” Gerard screamed again, getting up from the floor and shoving Bob once, hard. 

“Gerard, stop,” Bob said, grabbing Gerard’s wrists and holding them. He knew Gerard was just hurt—he knew he was frightened and that something scared him so badly that he couldn’t even bear to admit it.

“Please! Just _leave!_ ” Gerard pulled away from Bob’s grip and moaned. 

“I don’t want to leave you on your own right now. You’re _upset._ ”

“I just want to clean my clothes! I just want to do the laundry before my boyfriend gets home and sees this _mess._ ” He gestured around at the living room where there were a few misplaced magazines and used cups. It was hardly a mess…

“Okay,” Bob said. There was nothing he could do. His presence just made Gerard angrier, and with him out of work, Bob was going to be needed back at the store to cover for him. “Just…be careful, Gerard.”

He didn’t know what he meant by ‘be careful.’ Was he warning Gerard not to commit suicide? Not to fall on the basement stairs because he was shaking too badly to walk?

Bob didn’t know, but as soon as he was out the door, he heard Gerard quickly redo the locks before breaking into more hysteric screams. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard wept as he frantically scrubbed the shower clean. Boyfriend would be home any second and the rounds weren’t done…

The rounds weren’t done.

The laundry was still being dried, the dishes were still drying in the rack, the toilet wasn’t scrubbed…

And Boyfriend would be home any minute! _Any_ minute.

Gerard started rinsing the bottom of the tub with clean water, watching the greyish scum wash down the drain. He cleaned off the showerhead to get rid of the calcium buildup, rinsed that water away, and quickly scrubbed the toilet and finished off by cleaning the bathroom sink after washing his hands.

The bathroom was completely finished, so Gerard hurried into the living room just to make sure again that everything would look perfect when Boyfriend got home. 

Gerard went into the kitchen and checked to make sure the kitchen was spotless, and started drying the dishes that were still dripping with a dish towel. 

As he was drying the very last bowl, he heard the door lock crack. He felt something cold drop into the pit of his stomach and he turned to face the door.

“Sweetheart—I brought you a surprise!” Frank called. His voice was playful as he closed the door and locked all three of the locks. The dogs jumped at his ankles and he baby-talked them for a moment before turning to look at Gerard in the kitchen. “Hey—wow… You cleaned. Did you get off work early?”

“I…” Gerard looked from Frank’s slowly drooping face down to the bag in Frank’s hand. “I did,” Gerard said, nodding. 

“Are you okay?” Frank asked.

Gerard swallowed hard, not sure how Frank was seeing through him. Maybe it was too clean…

“I-I… I was looking at our pictures and…well, I had to come home,” Gerard said, trying to smile but not quite able. He left out the most important part of his story—he’d been looking at photos when his trainer came in and yelled at him, then he’d been taken home by Bob.

“Did you…” Frank giggled at him. “Did you jizz in your pants?”

“M-maybe,” Gerard said, swallowing hard.

“You look scared—what’s wrong?” Frank asked.

“What did you bring me?” Gerard asked, looking down at the bag in Frank’s hand.

“Oh! I bought you a present today,” Frank said, handing the bag to Gerard after taking out his placemat drawing that he’d been given by the little girl. “You’re gonna be so excited…”

Inside the bag was one of the diner’s take-home boxes, and when Gerard picked it up it felt empty. Gerard looked at Frank anxiously, not sure what to make of an empty box.

“I know—I know, it’s light. Open it. Open, open!” Frank was practically jumping up and down and Gerard lowered his head to look down at the box. He popped the lid and stared down at a napkin with a few scribbles on it. At first, he couldn’t make it out, then he felt like he might just be sick. “Are you excited?” Frank asked.

Gerard looked up at him, wide-eyed and so confused. He didn’t even finish cleaning the house and Boyfriend brought him a gift.

“ _Glenn Danzig_ was in my diner today,” Frank said, brimming with excitement. “I got him to sign a napkin for you—it’s made out to you and everything! Do you like it!?” 

Gerard looked down at the box again and then dropped it onto the counter. For a moment, Frank started looking hurt, but Gerard grabbed him in a hug and refused to let go.

“It’s perfect,” Gerard whispered. He tried to get his composure while Frank couldn’t see his face.

They were going to have sex now. That was the right thing to do. Gerard couldn’t show his fear. He couldn’t tell Frank what happened. It would just ruin the gift—completely ruin the entire day.

“You like it?” Frank asked again. “You…you really seem upset about something.” Frank pulled back and scanned Gerard’s face. “Who hurt you?” Frank asked firmly.

“No one hurt me, Frankie,” Gerard said, chest tightening as Frank stared him in the eye.

“Gerard, someone hurt you. I can tell. What happened at work?—Did _Bob_ say something to you? I swear if—”

“I had to go home early, that’s all,” Gerard said. 

“Did your boss yell at you?” Frank asked.

“No, Frank,” Gerard answered, looking down at the autographed napkin which almost made his heart burst with stifled happiness. He hoped that one day soon he’d be able to show how excited he was to have it.

“Gerard, you’re scaring me,” Frank said.

“Why? I-I… I did laundry today,” Gerard said, trying to smile for Frank. 

It just made Frank look even more concerned.

“Who hurt you?” Frank asked again. “You’re…you’re acting like you did after…”

“I just…I want to try something today and…I’m afraid you’ll say no?” Gerard attempted. Frank looked like he believed him and Gerard felt his stomach fill with dread as he tried to think of a new bedroom game. Anything harsh would trigger him and he knew it. He needed something else… Something gentle but risky.

“Oh,” Frank said, shaking his head and smiling again. “You had me worried… What do you wanna do? You cleaned up all nice, and I got you a gift—what should we do to celebrate?”

“I want… I want to tie you up. Can I tie you? Can I top?”

“Sure,” Frank said, smiling and almost looking excited. “Can we use the special lube?”

“Y-yeah,” Gerard said, nodding quickly. “Um… I don’t want you to get hurt though.”

“If it hurts I’ll ask you to stop—I know you’re not going to hurt me,” Frank said, smiling and leaning up for a kiss. Gerard flinched when their lips touched and Frank pulled back. “You’re hiding something.”

“No I’m not,” Gerard whispered.

“Gerard, you—”

There was a sharp knock on the front door and Gerard felt the blood drain from his face. Frank caught it, too, and looked at him anxiously. 

“Gerard…”

“Don’t answer the door,” Gerard whispered, knowing immediately that it was Trainer and Trainer was going to hurt him and hurt Frank. He didn’t want to see Frank hurt—he didn’t want to watch his lover die.

“It’s probably Ray,” Frank said, walking over to the door. Gerard tried to grab his arm, but Frank evaded him. “What’s wrong with you today?”

“Don’t answer the door, please,” Gerard begged, letting instinct overcome him. He dropped to his knees and crawled out of view underneath the kitchen table. 

“Gerard…” Frank looked at him hesitantly and then walked over to the door. He unbolted the locks but left the chain intact. When he opened the door, Gerard heard him sigh. “Gerard, it’s your _brother._ ”

“Yeah, good to see you too,” Mikey mumbled. 

Gerard crawled slowly out from under the table, still shaking in fear. He looked at Frank with growing despair as got back on his feet, and looked at Mikey whose face said it all…

Bob told Mikey. Mikey knew. And if Mikey knew, Frank would too and there’d be no sex and Frank would be upset and the day would be ruined.

“M-Mikey,” Gerard said, looking quickly around him. He grabbed the to-go box off the counter and cautiously walked over to his brother and Frank. “L-Look what Frank got me at w-work today.”

“He got you an empty box?” Mikey asked. “What, leftovers? What?” All at once, Mikey’s skepticism turned to shock. “Holy shit! Wow… It’s made out to you and everything, Gerard! That’s crazy!”

“I-I know… You’re… You’re interrupting.”

“Interrupting?” Mikey asked, looking at Gerard with a painfully blunt expression. 

“It’s nothing,” Frank said quickly. “Gerard, we’ll… We’ll say thanks later.” He winked at him and Gerard looked quickly away. 

“He didn’t tell you,” Mikey said, handing the box with the napkin back to Gerard who shivered. 

“Tell me what?” Frank asked, looking from Mikey to Gerard. He looked hurt and Gerard just shook his head. 

“Nothing,” Gerard said.

“What…Why are you lying?” Frank asked. 

“Gerard, you need to tell him.”

“You need to _leave!_ ” Gerard yelled, looking at Mikey bitterly. “You’re _ruining_ everything!”

“Tell me _what!?_ ” Frank called, looking from Gerard to Mikey and back. “Gerard, what the hell?”

“He had a panic attack at work—Bob had to bring him home,” Mikey said.

“I’m fine now,” Gerard said desperately, hoping they’d believe him and just let it go. He couldn’t relapse again. He _wouldn’t._ He wouldn’t let himself go to sleep if it meant he wouldn’t have the nightmares that worried Frank. 

“I knew something was wrong,” Frank said. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Gerard looked from his boyfriend to his brother and backed into the counter behind him. He felt cornered and he wanted to scream. He thought about opening the window over the sink and climbing outside. He could run away—just run and keep going.

“I…I told you what happened,” Gerard stammered. “I told you—I was looking at the pictures and I…and I had to go home.”

“What pictures?” Mikey asked, looking at his brother suspiciously. 

“Nothing,” Frank said quickly, shaking his head. 

“Gerard, just tell us what happened,” Mikey said. “Bob called me and told me to come check on you. You wouldn’t even answer my texts all day…”

Gerard stared at them both and felt his breathing turn rapid. He felt like he was suffocating no matter how much air he tried to breathe. They couldn’t know. Frank wouldn’t touch him if he knew… 

He _wasn’t_ going to relapse. He _couldn’t._

“We… He’s feeling ganged up on,” Frank said, turning to Mikey. “Can I just…have some time with him? I’ll call you later—”

“I drove here to see my brother; I’m not leaving,” Mikey said.

Gerard stared at them and felt himself start crying. He did his best to keep silent, but his breaths became shaky. 

“Sweetheart, you can tell us when you’re ready. If you don’t want to talk about it, we won’t. Let me make you dinner. Why don’t you go find a safe place for your autograph?”

“Come with me,” Gerard said quickly.

Frank blinked at him and then nodded. 

“Okay… Sure, Sweetheart.” Frank passed Mikey look of fear as Gerard carried the to-go box back into their bedroom. Mikey stayed in the kitchen when Frank left, and as soon as they were both in the room, Gerard shut the door. “Gerard, I won’t make you talk about it. And tonight we’ll still play around if you want to, okay? Remember what I said before? When I was hurt?” Gerard stared at him blankly. He was trying to decide what to do with Frank now that he had him alone. “I told you that you couldn’t always think of me as the victim, and I feel the same about you. I’m… If you say you’re alright, then I won’t push it. You have bad days and I’m not going to punish you for that.”

The word punish set Gerard off. He felt it tear at his stomach and set the box down onto the dresser before grabbing Frank by the face. His boyfriend cried out in fear, but Gerard swallowed the noise when he smashed their lips together. The more Frank resisted, the tighter Gerard held him. He _couldn’t_ let go, because if he let himself think about something other than the way Frank’s skin felt, the way his hair smelled, the way his mouth tasted, he would cry or scream or just simply break in half. 

Frank pushed against his chest, but Gerard just started lapping at Frank’s resisting tongue. Frank let out a moan of displeasure, but Gerard had to take it for one of pleasure. He had to, because Frank needed to love him. Frank needed to prove it.

Gerard dropped one of his hands from Frank’s face and he began pawing at the waistband of his jeans. Frank tried to back away, but Gerard just wrapped his hand around Frank’s waist and kissed him harder. He forcibly held their lips together so he could take a shallow breath through his nose and sucked Frank’s lower lip until Frank finally, finally stopped pushing against him.

Carefully, Gerard slid his hand back to the front of Frank’s jeans and played with his belt until he finally got it undone. Frank tried to moan in protest, but Gerard wouldn’t let go of his mouth—not even when Frank began to sound desperate for air and kept trying to turn his face away. 

Within seconds of freeing the belt, Gerard had his hand down the front of Frank’s pants. His boyfriend squeaked as Gerard closed his fist tightly around his cock and gave it a firm, dry stroke. When Frank didn’t respond favorably, Gerard growled and dropped almost too quickly onto his knees. He made quick work of Frank’s fly and, just as Frank started whispering for him to stop because Mikey was in the next room, sucked Frank’s length into his mouth. Frank was at full hardness moments after being enveloped in the wet heat, but his mouth kept uttering words of opposition. 

Gerard looked up at him in confusion. He really couldn’t understand why Frank wouldn’t just let him—they’d done it before… He wasn’t going to bite. Did Frank think he’d bite?

“Please, Gerard… _Oh…_ ” Above him, Frank looked so miserable. Gerard couldn’t bear it. Frank had given him the world’s most amazing gift and now he looked like he might start to cry. Gerard couldn’t take it. He needed loved—not fear, hurt, or hated.

He let Frank fall from his mouth and quickly folded him back into his work pants and redid the zip, button, and belt. Frank stared down at him in confusion, still looking frightened but also relieved.

“That’s…that’s a preview of what you’re gonna get when I tie you up later,” Gerard breathed, getting back onto his feet and kissing Frank again deeply before he could speak. At first Frank fought the kiss, moaning this time in disgust as he was made to taste himself on Gerard’s tongue. After a moment, he gave in and finally sighed against Gerard’s lips instead of crying out in protest. 

“I feel like…you’re either going to fuck my brains out or tease me to death,” Frank panted, looking at Gerard with wide eyes. 

“Both,” Gerard said, licking his lips before kissing Frank gently on the cheek, just to show his affection. “I love you so much…”

“I love you too, Sweetheart,” Frank said, reaching up to stroke Gerard’s cheek. He was looking at him with pity and Gerard couldn’t take it. He didn’t like keeping secrets from Frank. It hurt like hell and Gerard would rather face a beating than keep his mouth closed a second longer…

But he had to think of Frank. His secret would just burden Frank’s heart. He couldn’t weigh on Frank anymore… He’d put him through enough.

“Gerard, please don’t hide this from me,” Frank said, reading him. “It’s hurting you so badly—I can see it. Please.”

“No,” Gerard said, shaking his head. 

“Baby… You know I love you, right? And that you can trust me…”

Gerard looked at him sadly and kissed his cheek again. Frank said he wouldn’t push, but he couldn’t help himself. He was too concerned and Gerard didn’t know what would hurt him worse, the anxiety of not knowing or the horror of knowing the truth.

“Was… Was it your old boss?” Frank asked. Gerard shook his head no too quickly and he saw that it made Frank suspicious. “An old boyfriend?”

“No,” Gerard said. “It was nothing. There was no one.”

“So…a flashback?” Frank asked, prying and prodding as gently as he could. 

“Sure,” Gerard said, shrugging. 

“Okay,” Frank said, he sounded mad and Gerard’s stomach immediately lurched. “Gerard, you _know_ that telling me isn’t going to upset me, right? I know that we’ve been having it all go really well for a while, but I’m not going to get mad at you if something went wrong. I’d rather know because this is killing me…”

“I’m okay,” Gerard whispered. 

“Gerard, you’re _not!_ ”

Gerard couldn’t help but cringe, and he turned his eyes quickly towards the box on the dresser that held his autographed napkin. He ruined everything… Whether he spoke up or said nothing, the night was ruined. Everything was over. Happiness? Gone. Love? Dried up…

Frank was sick of picking up the pieces. He had to be. Loving Gerard was a shitty full-time job with very little pay and absolutely no perks. 

Never before had Gerard felt so worthless in the eyes of anyone, and all of his trainer’s words echoed in his head. 

“Sweetheart, please… Just tell me what happened. I need to know—I’m…I’m your _partner._ We’re supposed to get through things together and it’s…it’s not fair of you to push me out.”

“I’m…not pushing,” Gerard whispered. 

“Gerard…I want to help. I can protect you if I know what’s wrong…”

“You can’t help me,” Gerard said, and it crushed him because he knew it was true. He was alone in this because he couldn’t bear the thought of hurting Frank, but no matter what he did Frank got hurt.

“Why?” Frank asked. 

“I just want to pretend it didn’t happen,” Gerard whispered. 

“That won’t help you,” Frank said quietly. 

“Nothing will help me. It happened and it’s over—you just won’t let me put it behind me.”

Frank looked hurt and took a step back from him. Gerard didn’t want to cause pain, but he couldn’t bear to have Frank digging. If he told him the very source of his life’s horror and trauma had visited him at work, Frank would panic. He would start babying him again and let him get away with things no one else would put up with.

“I’ll…go make dinner then. You should keep Mikey busy so he doesn’t… Yeah, so doesn’t blame me again.” With his arms crossed over his chest, Frank fled from the bedroom.

Gerard lowered his head and sank down onto the floor, his knees to his chest. He buried his face in his knees and whimpered. It was never his plan to hurt Frank, he just wanted to protect him—to protect _them._

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank went to bed early, but Gerard knew he didn’t sleep until much, much later. He heard his boyfriend rolling over and thrashing around in the bed trying to get comfortable when his worry wouldn’t let him sleep. Gerard couldn’t even bear to look at him. Frank’s pity turned to anger and Gerard—in any state of mind, let alone a fragile one—couldn’t handle it when the center of his whole world was mad. They didn’t sleep together like Gerard had hoped. Frank turned him down and turned him down again when Gerard kept asking.

Gerard tried to sleep on the couch, knowing it would be better to just have the nightmares alone. That way he couldn’t accidentally kick or punch his lover… That way if he cried, Frank could still get sleep and not be dead on his feet at work.

But Gerard soon realized that it wasn’t the nightmares that scared him the most now. Every gust of wind outside that rattled the window was someone breaking in. Every noise outside was his trainer casing the house, watching him and waiting for him to sleep so he could break inside. Gerard’s nightmares weren’t of old tortures, they were of new ones. Frank being taken away, Frank being tortured while Gerard was made to watch…

Frank being held hostage at the diner by his trainer while Adam made Frank do what he wanted.

At four-thirty, Gerard couldn’t take it anymore. The final nightmare had crushed him and he had no choice but to crawl back to Frank. He tried to keep his crying quiet even though he was trembling and terrified. As he walked into the bedroom, he kept his arms wrapped securely around himself and looked at Frank as he slept—finally still and quiet. 

His alarm would go off in an hour, and Gerard felt guilty just at the thought of waking him. For a while, he just stood there watching him, feeling safer just in his presence. Eventually, he made his way to the foot of the bed and sat down slowly on the mattress. 

Frank must not have been asleep deeply enough, because as soon as Gerard sat, he groaned and woke up.

“Gerard?” He started sitting up and Gerard stood back up from the bed. Gerard knew it was ridiculous, but he was still afraid Frank would be mad. “What? Come to bed…” Frank sighed sleepily and thumped his hand on the mattress beside him. “Come on. It’s cold…”

“Frank?” Gerard said, starting to feel his terror fade just a little. Frank wasn’t mad anymore. Frank had forgiven him…

“What? Sweetheart…come to bed.”

Gerard swallowed hard and forced his mouth to open.

“I-I…I have a secret,” Gerard whispered. He heard Frank sigh and lowered his head.

“That’s… That doesn’t usually end well,” Frank said softly.

“My…t-trained, um…came in the store yesterday,” Gerard said, shuddering and digging his fingers into his arms in an attempt to keep himself grounded. 

Suddenly, Frank flipped on the bedside lamp and was staring at him with cautious, skeptical eyes. 

“Are you—Are you serious?” Frank asked, his tone grave. “Gerard, you _saw_ him?”

“Yes, Frank,” Gerard said, suddenly afraid that Frank just wouldn’t believe him. There were millions of people in Jersey—what were the odds that the one who scared Gerard the most would appear one day in a small, random record store. One record store of thousands.

Of course Frank didn’t believe him…

Gerard lowered his head and backed another step toward the door.

“Gerard, what happened?” Frank asked, sitting up further in the bed. “Come here—where are you trying to go? Come here!”

Gerard stopped moving toward the door and crept closer to the bed. He sat down on the foot of the bed, but started crawling closer to Frank the longer his boyfriend stared at him.

“Gerard, did he touch you?” Frank asked. “Did he…did he try to molest you, or…”

“No, Frank,” Gerard said, sniffing and moving to lie down beside Frank. He curled his head against Frank’s chest and sighed. He didn’t know why the closeness made him feel so safe… If Trainer came, there was no way Frank could ever protect him. 

“Did he hurt you?” Frank asked, wrapping an arm tightly around Gerard’s shoulder and squeezing him tightly. Gerard closed his eyes slowly and nuzzled Frank’s chest.

“He…he scared me,” Gerard whispered. “He said that if he saw me again he’d kill me…”

“He recognized you?” Frank asked. There was no mistaking the fear in his voice, and Gerard knew Frank was afraid of the same thing as him—that Trainer followed him home. 

“Yes… I told him that B-Bob was my…my master a-and that I worked in the st-store because Bob wanted me to. I think he believed me… They don’t expect you to lie because they teach you what happens if you’re caught. I-I was sc-scared. I’m really scared.”

“You didn’t need to hide that,” Frank said. He sounded close to tears, and Gerard looked up at him nervously. He didn’t want Frank to be upset…

“I… I want you to be happy with me. If I break you’re not happy…”

“Gerard, you were _tortured_ because of _that man,_ and you tried to hide it from me? I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t be mad—did you think I’d get mad? I want to _protect_ you. You…you’d have _nightmares._ I don’t want you to sleep on the _couch…_ Gerard…” Frank let out a strangled cry and began kissing Gerard firmly on the head. “I don’t _mind_ taking care of you.”

“I don’t want taken care of,” Gerard whispered, curling closer to Frank. “I want to be your partner, not a pet. You love the _dogs_ because they depend on you for everything. They can’t live without us… I don’t want our life to be like that.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to _hide_ when something like this happens. How are you even…are you okay?” Frank asked, petting Gerard’s hair before kissing the top of his head again.

“I…I can’t go back to work, and I’m sorry,” Gerard whispered. He started to cry, but Frank quickly shushed him and tilted his head up to give him a quick kiss. 

“You don’t need to be sorry—I’ll take care of it. You need to stay where you’re safe, and you’re safe here.”

“Not if he followed me,” Gerard said, hugging Frank around the waist.

“He had no reason to follow you,” Frank said quickly. “If…if he thinks you’re with Bob, then…Bob brought you home and he stayed here for a while. The guy…he probably saw Bob take you out of the store if he was watching and that means—to him—Bob owned you. So he had no reason to follow you home—he didn’t. Gerard, he wouldn’t. He doesn’t know where we live.”

“Are you sure?” Gerard asked softly, wanting to believe that it was true. A trainer would never steal his old property—especially not when his property was, in fact, old and undesirable. Gerard was pretty, but he was old and his body showed it. Masters would see it and he’d be worth nothing. Trainer had no reason to take him unless to punish him for losing him money all those years ago. He was too calm being sold and the masters thought he was broken—broken in a bad way. Mentally ill or already on the verge of death. 

“I’m sure, Sweetheart,” Frank said gently. “He would have no reason to come pick a fight with your master if you had one.”

“I do have one,” Gerard whispered.

“No, you don’t,” Frank said, his voice harsh.

“As long as I act like a pet, I may as well call you master…”

“Well, I don’t want it!” Frank said, not angry but alarmed. “I’m not a master, I’m a boyfriend. I want to just be your boyfriend whether you’re strong or weak or angry. It’s my job to take care of you, just like it’s your job to take care of me when things happen to me. It doesn’t matter if you’re hurting more now or if you get upset more than me, because something bad could happen in my life any day and I’ll need you to help me.”

“I don’t want you to be hurt…” Gerard whispered. “I had nightmares about it. I don’t worry about _me._ I want you to be okay, and…it hurts that something bad can happen to you because you’re involved with me…” Gerard held Frank tighter and cuddled against his chest desperately. He wished he could feel comforted, but only time would tell if the trainer would come or if he’d lose interest and stay away.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait. I was poisoned about a week ago and was very sick from that for a while. I'm still getting it all out of my system, and this was really the best I could write to get it out quickly.

_Chapter 39_

Frank stood behind Gerard, rubbing his shoulders and humming as he watched Gerard work on a sketch. Gerard usually didn’t like when Frank hovered, but this time he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, whenever Frank pulled away, Gerard would groan and stop his work until Frank came back to him. 

“You’re so talented,” Frank whispered, kissing the top of Gerard’s head. His boyfriend hummed and continued his work.

“I wanna hear you play…” Gerard mumbled. 

“Hm? I could hook up the guitar and play for you if you want, Sweetheart,” Frank said, petting and ruffling Gerard’s hair. 

“I don’t…”

“What?” Frank asked softly.

“Let’s… I want…”

Since he’d seen his trainer at the store, Gerard had been having trouble returning to normal. He couldn’t really make requests without stammering and pausing, and he had a lot of trouble accepting it when Frank told him to quit cleaning the house. He’d mostly gone back to his slave mentality—he never left the house and spent his days cleaning up and playing with the dogs, waiting for Frank to come home. 

“What, Sweetheart?” Frank asked.

“Nothing… I’m lonely.”

“Lonely?” Frank asked, kissing Gerard’s cheek and rubbing his shoulders in an attempt to get Gerard to open up.

“Really lonely,” Gerard said, his voice barely audible over the clatter of his pen as he dropped it down onto the desk.

“I can take you to work with me again tomorrow,” Frank said. It had been weeks since Gerard had quit his job and being in the house alone all day left him more than depressed. Frank had come home early one day from work and found Gerard lying on the bathroom floor in hysterics, threatening to kill himself because he was tired of living in fear. Frank had spent hours talking him down and began taking Gerard to work with him just so he could watch him. 

“I don’t want to sit in the break room all day,” Gerard said quietly. 

“I’m sorry,” Frank said. On days he couldn’t take Gerard to work, Mikey or Ray would come over and visit with him, just to keep him in check. Gerard hated being babysat more than he hated being alone, but Frank wouldn’t risk losing him again. 

“I… I think we should try the band again,” Gerard mumbled.

“I don’t know…I work a lot of hours now.”

“I talked to…to Mikey and Ray about it a little. They said…Friday nights work. And you don’t work Friday nights…”

“We could all hang out and play on Fridays,” Frank said, surprised that this was the first he’d heard of Gerard’s planning. Frank had noticed Gerard writing song lyrics again in secret, but Ray never once mentioned to him that Gerard was trying to get the band back together…

“I want the band,” Gerard said. “I…think we could be good.”

“Well, we can definitely try. I still know some people who know some people. If you ever feel up to it, I’m sure I could get us a little gig somewhere.”

“I…I want to try, Frank. I’m… I’m scared to go to work, and… Frank?”

Frank shushed him and kissed him gently on the cheek. 

“If you want to try it out, we’ll try it out. Can I read some of your lyrics?”

“Nn… I-I… I don’t know,” Gerard said, grabbing up his pen again and sketching hastily. He messed up a line and Frank cringed when the page was crumpled into a ball and tossed aside. 

“It’s okay,” Frank said, kissing Gerard’s head and rubbing his arm. “I won’t make you—I just like your work.”

“Bedroom?” Gerard asked, turning around slowly in his desk chair. Frank took a step back from him and lowered his head. 

“I…If you want to?” Frank asked, raising an eyebrow. After seeing his trainer in the store, Gerard tried to act normal and disguise all of his pain and fear. He tried to hide his nightmares—even when he woke up screaming and crying—and almost immediately after the secret was out, Gerard tried hiding his emotions with sex. It seemed as though he thought he could trick Frank into thinking that seeing his trainer hadn’t scared him at all. 

“I…I like being with you, Frank,” Gerard said softly. 

“I know. I like being with you, too. I just don’t want you to—”

“Please? Frank, I just… I like you.”

“I love you,” Frank said, reaching out for Gerard’s hand. Gerard stared at it and then took it, smiling a little.

“I love you more,” Gerard mumbled, getting up from his chair and wrapping himself up in Frank’s arms. “Will you really play in the band again?”

“Of course,” Frank whispered, kissing the bottom of Gerard’s chin until he got a genuine laugh out of his boyfriend. “Come on—let’s go to the bedroom.” As soon as Frank started to move, Gerard resisted him, conflicted. “It’s okay. Do you want me to go make us some dinner instead? I’m…kind of hungry.”

“Yeah,” Gerard said, nodding. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Frank said, offering Gerard gentle smile. “You’re too cute to be sorry for anything.”

Gerard crinkled his nose and sat back down at his desk. Within seconds, he was starting another sketch and Frank left to make them both some dinner.

( ) ( ) ( )

“You know I’ve got work in the morning,” Frank said in between kisses. Gerard just hummed and pressed another wet kiss onto Frank’s lips. He planted kiss after kiss onto Frank’s mouth, chin, and neck, ignoring it when Frank tried to push him away. “I have work in…six hours,” Frank said, turning his head to look at the clock. 

“I can be fast,” Gerard mumbled, sucking on Frank’s neck. 

“Gerard—”

“Please?” Gerard whispered, rubbing Frank through his boxers and sighing when his efforts did little good. “Frankie…”

“What about after work?” Frank asked, gently tilting Gerard’s chin until he could kiss him on the mouth. 

“Now?” Gerard asked, keeping his voice low.

“Okay,” Frank said, lifting his hands to rub Gerard’s hips. Gerard sighed softly and went back to kissing and sucking on Frank’s neck until finally he got a response. 

“Can I top?” Gerard asked, stroking Frank gently through his boxers and whimpering when it took Frank too long to answer.

“If you want to, Baby,” Frank said, reaching up to tuck some of Gerard’s hair behind his ear. 

“I want to,” Gerard said, moaning softly and nipping at the skin just under Frank’s jaw. 

“Then okay,” Frank said, offering his boyfriend a smile even though Gerard couldn’t see it in the dark. He moved to spread his legs so Gerard could rest between them and wrapped his arms around Gerard’s shoulders. “Anything else you want?” Frank asked when Gerard hesitated. 

“I…”

“What?” Frank pressed, kissing Gerard’s cheek.

“I-I…”

“What, Sweetheart?” Frank asked. “You can tell me.” 

“Um… I-I want to…” Gerard continued to stammer and Frank couldn’t help but sigh. The same thing happened the last time Gerard tried to top. He got choked up trying to make a request, lost the mood, and went to sleep on the couch. 

“Tell me,” Frank said. “I’ll be up for it—I promise.” He tried to make his tone seductive, but Gerard just hummed in discomfort. “Gerard…”

“I want to…”

“Do you…wanna tie me up?” Frank asked, kissing Gerard’s throat.

“No,” Gerard said quietly. 

“Do you want to use the special lube again?” Frank asked, a little hopefully. Gerard shook his head. “What?”

“Can I…top?”

“I already said yes—what’s wrong?” Frank asked, keeping his tone playful so Gerard wouldn’t feel upset and try to hide.

“I just…want to…”

“To what?” Frank asked. “Do you…want to try choking me or something? What?”

“Not choke you,” Gerard whispered. “Never…”

“Then what? Do you want me to do something? Please, just tell me—we’ll have fun. I promise.”

“I want to…to bite you…”

“Bite me?” Frank asked, just surprised. Gerard whimpered and started pulling away, but Frank was quick to grab him. “Hm…do you wanna be my vampire?” Frank asked, kissing Gerard’s throat and smirking when Gerard practically cooed with happiness. 

“Can I?” Gerard asked, sounding like an excited child. 

“Only where I can cover the marks, okay? Collar bone, shoulder—not my neck, not where I can’t hide it.”

“Okay,” Gerard said, quickly kissing Frank one last time on the mouth before nipping at his throat and then biting down on his collar bone. It wasn’t too hard, but it was still painful and sharp. Frank knew he was bleeding, and as soon as the blood hit Gerard’s tongue he started clawing at Frank’s clothes. 

Frank tried helping him, but Gerard just pushed his hands away and stripped him himself. Without Frank’s help grabbing the lube, however, Frank was sure Gerard would have forgotten it. 

More likely on purpose than not…

Frank had to force the bottle into Gerard’s hand, and even then Gerard stared at the bottle as if he didn’t understand what it was. 

“Gerard,” Frank said, his tone warning. His boyfriend sighed and nodded his head before slicking up his fingers. Frank barely had time to breathe before Gerard shoved two of his fingers inside.

Frank winced in pain but knew asking Gerard to be more gentle would be a wasted effort. He was never gentle when he topped—he copied his master. 

As the harshly thrust his fingers in and out, Gerard continued to place wet, open-mouthed kisses onto Frank’s neck before nipping, biting, and licking up little drops of blood. It wasn’t really bad until Gerard slid in the third finger and worried a small piece of Frank’s skin between his sharp, canine teeth. 

“Th-that hurts,” Frank said, trying to curve his shoulder in an attempt to block Gerard’s teeth. Gerard, thankfully, got the hint and moved to a different patch of skin. He kissed instead of bit, and then pulled away all together in order to slick himself with lube and line himself up. 

“A-are you okay?” Gerard asked, waiting for Frank to nod before slowly pressing in. He wrapped his hand around Frank’s cock and gave it a few encouraging strokes as he set up a quick pace. Once he had Frank moaning, he immediately lowered his head and bit into the base of Frank’s neck. 

Frank cried out when he felt Gerard’s teeth break the skin and felt tears immediately well in his eyes. He let out a quiet whimper and pushed lightly on Gerard’s chest, afraid shoving him might just make him angry.

“Sorry,” Gerard panted, shaking his head and moving to gently kiss Frank’s neck. When he kissed him on the lips, Frank tasted blood. “I-I’m sorry. I-I—” His apologies turned into a soft moan of pleasure as he quickened his pace and began pumping Frank a little faster. 

Gerard started kissing Frank’s neck again, instead of biting this time. He sighed quietly and ran his tongue over the sore and welted skin. Frank tried to ignore the fact that Gerard was literally lapping up his blood. 

After making a wound that bled more than just a couple of drops, Gerard stopped biting and focused on kissing and sucking on the side of Frank’s neck down to his collar bone. Frank tried to ignore the throbbing of his pulse and let himself get caught up in the mixed sensations of Gerard’s tongue, his firm hand, and the feel of his cock striking that spot deep inside him. 

Gerard didn’t last long, and within minutes he was moaning into Frank’s neck and the hand he had stroking Frank’s cock tightened almost unbearably. All it took was one whimper from Frank and the grip loosened. Gerard kissed the bleeding wound on Frank’s collar and angled his thrusts so each one brushed against Frank’s prostate. 

When the harsh thrusts went from steady to erratic, Frank expected to have Gerard start sucking his blood again, but instead Gerard started kissing him deeply on the mouth. Frank cringed at the coppery taste of his own blood, but moaned as Gerard swirled his thumb over the slit of his cock. 

Gerard came with a choked off moan and Frank followed soon after, running his fingers through Gerard’s hair. After taking a moment to catch his breath, Gerard returned to kissing and licking at the bite marks. 

“Was I okay?” Gerard asked. His voice was shaky, and as soon as he pulled out he started trembling. Frank grabbed for their blankets and threw it over Gerard’s shoulders, trying to offer him comfort and warmth.

“You were perfect—why are you shaking?” 

Gerard just shook his head and collapsed onto the bed beside Frank. He snuggled up close to Frank’s side and kept shaking until he finally fell asleep. Knowing getting out of bed early enough to shower and get to work on time would be impossible, Frank slipped out from between the sheets and stepped into the bathroom. 

He winced at his reflection in the mirror, and looking at the dribbles and smears of blood running down his neck and collar bone. He had a hickey under his jaw that he would have to cover with make up when he left for work, but other than that Gerard kept his bite marks low so Frank could hide them. 

( ) ( ) ( ) 

When Frank woke up in the morning, Gerard was still deep asleep. There were smears of blood all over his mouth and Frank couldn’t help but think that he really did look like some kind of vampire. He was pale because he never went outside and the dried blood—although a little nauseating to look at—was still bright on his face. 

Frank rubbed Gerard’s shoulder to wake him, and Gerard just wrapped the blankets around himself further and rolled onto his other side. 

“Gerard—I’m going to work,” Frank said. It was unusual for Gerard to let him leave so easily. “Sweetheart?”

“I’m tired,” Gerard grumbled. 

“Okay,” Frank said, daring to smile a little. Gerard didn’t sound depressed or anxious, just sleepy. It was different, and Frank was willing to risk thinking that Gerard was starting to get better again. “Mikey will be over later.”

“I know,” Gerard mumbled. “I’m tired…”

“Okay, okay. I’m leaving. I love you.”

“Love you,” Gerard muttered, groaning as he nuzzled the pillow. 

“Do you want me to bring home dinner from the diner tonight?” Frank asked, gauging Gerard’s mood.

“Go away!” Gerard called, sounding like an irate toddler. Frank giggled at him and pressed a quick kiss onto his cheek before backing out of the bedroom. He fed the dogs and then left for work, laughing only slightly when he heard Gerard shout out something about not being able to go back to sleep after shutting the door.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard stayed in bed for two hours after Frank was gone. He still had Frank’s blood on his lips and felt guilty with each rub of his hand that left flakes on the bed sheets. It wasn’t his intention to hurt Frank…but there was so much blood. 

Frank didn’t seem mad, though… Frank wasn’t mad at him. He actually seemed sort of…happy.

If Frank was still happy when he got home, that would truly mean Gerard had nothing to worry about. As it was, Gerard had to force himself to get out of the bed and face reality. He had to clean up—both himself and the sheets. And it was laundry day so he had to get the wash started before Mikey showed up.

Mikey always scolded him for doing all of the house work for Frank, but Gerard didn’t pay him any attention. Frank worked, Gerard cleaned the house. It was all he could do to prove himself worthy. 

Gerard thought of himself as a house husband—he stayed home and cleaned while Frank went to work. Though he tried not to think about the fact that if he didn’t return to work within the next six months, Frank’s savings would be exhausted and they would lose the house…

Gerard couldn’t let that happen, but the thought of going back out in plain sight kept him terrified. He didn’t want his trainer to see him again. He didn’t want _anyone_ to see him again. Sometimes Frank had to take him with him to the diner, and Gerard began to think that he probably could work in the restaurant, but only alongside Frank. Only Frank could keep him safe from angry customers, and if Frank was his supervisor and manager then there was no one who could yell at him or hurt him…

But it wouldn’t be fair to Frank or the other staff if Gerard worked there. Frank could never treat him as if he was just another employee, and that would just get Frank into trouble…

The only hope Gerard had of ever working alongside Frank was if they got the band back together and actually owned some success. Even though the thought of singing or performing terrified him, Gerard was willing to risk it to see Frank happy. 

He started working on new lyrics, ones that were about deeper things but so well encrypted he was sure no one would ever understand. When he sang them—alone, of course, with no one around to hear—they didn’t terrorize him the way some of his other songs did. He was able to desensitize himself to most of his older songs as well, but he wanted to try something new…something different. 

He just hoped Frank would be willing to try it again. He knew they were older…but when he thought hard he didn’t really think it would matter. They weren’t middle-aged or senile… If they looked good and had a good sound, wouldn’t people still like the band?

Gerard thought so…he hoped so, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is short, but it ends on the sort of note I'd like it to--a hopeful one. The first chapter of the third and final portion of this long story will be up before long. There will be a time leap of about a year and of course some timeline AU, but I think that's better to keep the story from getting bogged down with depressing highs and lows that would come from a person like my Gerard starting up a band. Hope to see you all again soon :)


End file.
